


Runaways

by Scarlett_Ledger



Category: Rammstein
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Cross-Posted on Mibba.com, Divorce, Divorce aftermath, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, May or may not keep the smut tag, Mutual Pining, Older Man/Younger Woman, Paul is still a gentleman and a sweetheart throughout the awkwardness, Previous Abusive Relationship, Sappy Fluff, Self-Doubt, Slow Burn-ish, Updates slow due to writers block, aftermath of past abuse, awkward attempts at flirting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2020-10-11 15:00:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 35,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20548079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarlett_Ledger/pseuds/Scarlett_Ledger
Summary: Lydia Stillwell escapes to Berlin to start over with her life. But she didn't account for her neighbor, Paul.





	1. Moving Day

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own anyone or anything famous or recognizable. I do own the plot and original characters. This is a work of pure Fiction. Please do not steal what I do own. Thank you.

Grunts and groans slowly drew him out of his apartment, mentally gearing up to once again yell at the neighbors four doors down. Now, Paul understood being young and adventurous. He did quite a few crazy things in his youth. But those two needed to learn not to fuck in the hallway. There were children in this building, dammit! Thankfully, instead of being two twenty somethings going at it against their front door, he was greeted by the sight of a new neighbor. He thought he'd heard someone moving boxes this morning. But, again, he simply chalked it up to the couple.

The apartment across the hall and two doors down from his had been vacant for about three months now as the owner of the building was picky about who she rented to. Unfortunately in some cases she wasn't picky enough. That damn couple being the perfect example. 

Paul took a moment to observe his new neighbor. She had dark brown, almost black hair piled onto her head in a messy bun, seemingly held in place with one long silver clip. She was rather pale, like she hadn’t been out in the sun much and seemed quite short. Or at least she looked that way while trying, and failing, to push a rather large box through her door. She was dressed in a dark grey pant suit and was barefoot. An odd choice for moving, in his opinion. 

Lydia huffed and leaned over the box to take a breather. She didn’t understand how this box was so heavy. And it was her last one too. She'd spent her whole day moving everything in. Thankfully this place had an elevator because there was no way she would of been able to lug all those boxes up to the sixth floor. 

Taking a deep breath, she planted her feet on the cold floor and began pushing with all her might. It moved. Some. Deciding to take a different approach she squatted down, hoping to gain a bit more leverage, and pushed again. After a few more tries the box finally slid through the rest of her door. As did Lydia. Her last shove had enough momentum that it sent her sprawling forward onto the floor. She was lucky she didn't crack her chin against the hardwood. 

She quickly scrambled to sit up on her knees and threw her arms up in victory. "Yes!" A throat clearing behind her immediately put a stop to her little celebration. She squeaked and slowly turned around, humiliation already flooding through her veins and her face.

The man that stood before her was a bit on the short side, though definitely taller than her. Which wasn’t exactly hard considering her five foot two frame. He had black hair cropped short in a bowl cut and blue or grey eyes, it was hard to tell with the lighting. He also had a few wrinkles and greying stubble along his chin and neck that showed his age. Probably early fifties if Lydia had to venture a guess. And as much as she loathe to admit it with the considerable age difference, he was rather cute. 

“Uh, sorry to bother you. But I heard a noise and wanted to make sure everything was alright,” he spoke with an awkward chuckle and a thick accent. He had a nice voice though. He must of noticed she was American since he immediately spoke in English instead of German. 

“It’s alright,” Lydia quickly assured while standing up. Distantly she wondering how much of a field day her best friend would have if she told her the first person she met in this building was on her knees. And a man no less. Oh yeah, Jet would be all over it. “I’m sorry about all the noise. My last box was a bit heavier than I thought.”

He nodded and flashed a smile. “I’m Paul.”

Oh, she thought, he has a nice smile. “I’m Lydia.”

He nodded again and cleared his throat, looking rather awkward. “I’ll leave you to your unpacking then. I just wanted to check and make sure everything was alright.” He paused and rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly looking even more awkward than before. “I hope you like the building.”

She fought a smile as she watched him search for words. It was surprisingly adorable. “Thank you for checking. And I definitely think I’ll like the building.”

Paul gave her one last, rather charming, smile and walked back to his own apartment. He glanced back at her before walking in and was surprised to see her watching him with a soft smile. He flashed one in return before hurriedly entering his home. It wasn’t until after the door was shut did he bury his face in his hands with a groan and mutter, “why me?”.

He hadn’t meant to act that way around her. Truthfully, he didn’t even know what possessed him to go say hi. He’d only planned on getting a better look at her and then going back to his own apartment. No words were to be exchanged and she wasn’t going to even know he was there. And yet Paul felt like he made a fool of himself by talking to her. 

She was rather cute though, he decided a few minutes after calming himself down. With her big brown doe eyes and soft features. She was shorter than him too, so that was a plus. She also had a nice smile. And she didn't seem creeped out by whatever the hell that conversation was. That was an even bigger plus to him. She was young though. Probably younger than he was willing to date. That thought alone made him wince and begin mentally scolding himself. She couldn’t have been older than thirty, if she wasn’t still in her twenties, and here he was thinking about how attractive she was. 

“I’m such a creep,” Paul groaned in despair. 

Meanwhile, Lydia was having similar problems in her apartment. After watching him leave she shut the door and slumped against it. “He was actually kind of cute,” She whispered to herself, voice full of surprise. She then groaned and shook her head. “No, no. Bad Lydia. No more men. Especially one that’s probably old enough to be your father.” Still, a persistent little voice insisted that there was nothing wrong with actually finding someone attractive for once. 

With a sigh of annoyance, mostly at herself, she decided to start unpacking boxes. It wasn’t like they were going to unpack themselves and her new apartment was full of them. Too bad she couldn’t ask Paul to help her unpack. That thought made her flinch and start silently cursing herself. “No more men.”

In an effort to distract herself from such thoughts she started with the boxes labeled ‘Kitchen’. They would probably take the longest to organize considering it’s contents. These boxes were a combination of things she shipped over from her old home in the U.S., things her Grandmother was kind enough to send and some stuff she had been accumulating over the past couple of weeks with Jet.

Jet Masterson sauntered into Lydia’s life on a summer day in Paris during her sixteenth year. The two met at an ice cream shop and have been inseparable ever since. Even with Lydia’s mother’s extreme disapproval and living on different parts of the planet. Thankfully her Grandmother liked the idea of Lydia finally having friends that weren’t escentully chosen for her and encouraged the girls to be together as often as possible. No matter what her own daughter thought. 

Lydia Stillwell grew up in a heavily structured home that gave both of her parents, especially her mother, complete control. She did everything according to their command. And that included only being friends with people they chose and approved of, Jet later became the only exception to this rule. Lydia only attended the best private schools, was a constant at her parents country clubs and social circles, and had no after school activities besides studying and the functions her parents regularly attended. And later, after her mother deemed her age appropriate, she began dating boys that were picked out for her. This would later include a marriage. 

Her only solace was summers with her Grandparents and Jet in Paris. And eventually her painting. While both of her parents initially shamed her artistic talents, a high ranking member of their social circle changed that. Her granddaughter took the same art class as Lydia and complained about her being the best in the class. This brought it to the grandmother’s attention enough to talk to Lydia and her parents about it because art could be a rewarding, or rather money making, career. Her parents eventually relented in order to gain favor and encouraged her to paint. While this would have discouraged or upset some people, Lydia was just happy to finally have an outlet she enjoyed. 

Eventually this outlet became a way of life and the only thing that kept her sane. Some of her more dark and abstract work came out of that time in her life. But she was proud of those paintings nonetheless. They showed that she survived. And one of those pieces of survival was currently on display in Jet’s art gallery. She was the only person Lydia trusted to display such a piece.

Many of her other paintings from before and after that time in her life were either on display in galleries around the world or in storage with her Grandparents. It was a strange but thrilling notion, people paying her to showcase her work. She always figured it would be the other way around. 

Four hours later, Lydia had successfully unpacked and organized the kitchen, living room, and part of her bedroom. But now it was time for a break and a snack. Unfortunately there was no food in the apartment yet, so this meant venturing out into the city. She wasn’t exactly looking forward to it. 

After slipping on some shoes and grabbing a purse, she exited her apartment only to stop dead in her tracks. Across the hall and two doors down, Paul was doing the same thing. And he was carrying a guitar case.

“Oh,” he blinked. “Hello.”

She felt a blush rising. “Hello again.”

Paul adjusted his hold on the heavy looking case and walked towards her. “If you’re going out, you might need a jacket.”

“Oh,” she murmured, just now realizing he was wearing a light jacket. She must of been distracted by the guitar case. “Is it getting cold already?”

“A little.”

Nodding, she quickly unlocked the door and reached inside to grab a jacket she’d discarded over a box earlier. She had gotten ahead of herself at one point and started unboxing clothes before more important things. Like bed frames and dressers. While slipping it on she retreated back into the hallway and was surprised to see Paul still standing there. 

He gave her a not so quick once over and nodded. He then motioned for her to go first. So, while desperately trying to mask her shock, Lydia did. They stroad down the hall together, Paul just a step behind her. When they reached the elevator he was quick to push the button for her. And when the doors opened moments later, he held them open and again motioned for her to go first. While these were simple little things, they were still a bit jarring to Lydia due to not being around a gentleman in so long. 

Her ex-husband definitely did not count. 

They stood in silence for a few minutes before Lydia decided to pipe up, “Do you play?”

“Hmm? Oh,” Paul chuckled and nodded, realizing she was referencing to the guitar. “Yes. For most of my life.” They both suddenly had the uncomfortable thought that he’d probably been playing longer than she’d been alive. 

Pushing such thoughts from her mind, she continued, “You must be very dedicated then.”

He flashed her a grin. “You could say that.” He didn’t particularly feel like announcing that he was in a famous band to a stranger. Even if she was his very attractive neighbor. Though there was a chance she’d figure it out eventually. 

Before anything else could be said between them, the elevator suddenly came to a stop with a ding and the doors opened to the main lobby. Neither noticed that they both hesitated to leave the confined space. 

After finally exiting, Paul turned back towards her. “I hope you enjoy your evening.”

Lydia nodded in thanks and flashed a smile. “Thank you. And I hope you enjoy your playing.” While she spoke, he was quick to hold the door open for her. It had her blushing again.

He laughed a “thank you” and left the building after her. They went in different directions, both thinking back on the conversation already. Paul was pleased that it went much better than the first one and that he could make her smile so easily. While Lydia felt surprise and awe thrumming through her veins. Never before had a man got her to relax and smile so easily. It was both delightful and frightening. A strange combination indeed.


	2. Internal Struggles

Two weeks later saw Lydia settling nicely into her new apartment. She still occasionally saw her now mysterious neighbor Paul. He was constantly coming and going at all hours and he always had his guitar with him. She was still debating on whether he gave lessons or if he was in a band. Though it didn’t matter to her either way. And yet she still thought about it, or rather him, all the time. They’d only had a handful of conversations but he was constantly on her mind. And she didn’t like it. 

After the disaster that was her marriage to a one Alexander Dupont, Lydia swore off men. Be it for a few years or for the rest of her life. She didn’t care which. Just as long as they were gone and she didn’t have to deal with them. It had been two years since the separation and almost a full year since the divorce was finalized and she was going strong. But now there was Paul. A man who has been nothing but a sweetheart and a gentleman in the few times they actually talked. And it confounded her to no end. Part of her wanted to believe he was being genuine and meant no harm. But the other, much larger, part of her was waiting for the other shoe to drop the more they interacted. Because men like Paul just didn’t exist, right?

Unfortunately, Alexander had left a lasting impression. And a rather nasty one at that. 

Lydia was introduced to the Dupont family through her mother. Mrs. Stillwell and Mrs. Dupont had been friends since their private high school days. Apart they were insufferable women with an iron tight grip on their supposed loved ones. But together? They were a fiendish duo who could inspire the most rotten and evil of villains to be more creative. So of course they just had to be related by a marriage through their children. 

Right away, Lydia knew that Alexander was a man she’d hate for the rest of her life. Around others he was charming and polite. Some lesser known people would even refer to him as a gentleman. He wasn’t even close. In private were where his true colors shone bright. He was vain, arrogant, cruel, greedy, and down right despicable. He did take after his mother, after all. 

By the time everything was said and done, their marriage lasted seven years. Lydia would forever refer to it as the worst time in her life. And that included living with her parents. Not even her own mother could compare to the damage Alexander so easily, and oftentimes happily, inflicted. And that was saying something. 

Mr. and Mrs. Stillwell no longer talked to or associated with their daughter after her divorce was finalized. Most of the family found it disgraceful. A black mark on their otherwise perfect line. The only ones that cared anymore were her Grandparents. And she was perfectly fine with that. 

Currently Lydia was loading new paint supplies and canvas into the apartment complex elevator. The move and unpacking process had left her rattled enough that painting just wasn’t in the cards. But now that she was as relaxed as she was going to get, it was time to start back up. And she was immensely excited to do so. 

While she no longer had a room to dedicate to her painting, she figured the living room would work just fine. It was by far the biggest and most open space in the apartment. And it wasn’t like the floors would be hard to clean if she spilled anything. She’d long since learned how to clean paint off of or out of just about anything. Plus she bought a rather large drop cloth, just in case. 

"I didn't know you painted."

Lydia gave out a shriek and jumped, almost dropping a bag filled with paint in the process. She quickly spun around to see a surprised, and then incredibly guilty looking Paul.

"I'm so sorry," he said while walking up to the elevator entrance. "I was making noise and thought you heard me. I really didn't mean to scare you. I'm sorry." 

She nodded and took a few deep calming breaths. She truly hadn't heard anything before he spoke up. "It's alright." 

"I'm sorry," he breathed out again. He really hadn't meant to scare her. He'd noticed her loading a few bags into the elevator when he entered the building and walked noisily up to it, making sure his heavy boots made plenty of noise in an effort not to startle when he finally said something. But all of his efforts were in vain. 

"It's really okay," she assured while trying to force a smile. 

Paul frowned and shook his head, another apology on the tip of his tongue. Something told him this really wasn't okay. He previously noticed that she was skittish from time to time, like a previously abused cat that really didn't want to trust it's new family, no matter how sweetly they treated it. So any time they talked he did his best not to do anything that might seem harmful. It seems he failed. 

"No guitar?" She was desperate to change the subject and tried the first thing she noticed. 

"Oh. Um, yes," he frowned. He knew what she was doing and he didn’t like it but he'd let it go since she didn't want to linger on it. "No guitar today." Till had grumpily called a meeting at six in the morning and he'd been too tired to even think to grab it. And it wasn't like he needed it anyway. Some producer was displeased with something or another, so most of the morning was spent in meetings. 

Lydia nodded and sat her last bag on the elevator floor. "Are you going up?" 

"I am." 

She waved him in. "Come on then." 

He was quick to enter and push the button for their floor. "Have you been painting long?"

"Oh yes," she chuckled. "I used to love art. It was my favorite class in school, actually. But I didn't truly take up painting as something to do until I was about, oh, seventeen, I think?" That sounded about right. Her parents had hounded her not to do it for years so it took longer than it should have to pursue. 

He nodded and the rest of the ride up to the sixth floor was spent in silence. Borderline awkward silence. As soon as they reached their stop they were quick to unload everything into the hallway, despite Lydia's initial protests that she really didn't need help and Paul insisting on it to make up for scaring her, and then lugging everything into her apartment. 

"Thank you for the help." 

Paul flashed her a grin. "You're welcome." He glanced around her apartment long enough to take note of how different the layout was to his own, kitchen on the right with a door next to it and the living room on the left with another door. She had minimal furniture, making the space appear more open, the center wall had two large windows that flooded the room with light and added to the openness. "I'll leave you to it then." 

She laughed a little and nodded. "Thanks." She walked him to the door and paused when he stopped just outside. 

"Can I ask you something?" 

"Sure."

He suddenly looked awkward again as he began rubbing the back of his neck. "I know we don't know each other well and we only talk in passing. But I was wondering, would you like to go out sometime?" There. He said it. His thoughts were finally out in the open. 

Lydia frowned and bit her lip, a strange kind of sorrow filling her veins. "Oh. Paul, I. Um," she sighed and shook her head. "Well, I just..." She couldn't find the right words to both explain things and reject him. And that last thought hurt, surprisingly enough. Though she didn't want to acknowledge it, deep down there was a part of her that wanted to accept his offer without hesitation. And with more than a little bit of enthusiasm. 

He frowned and did his best to mask his disappointment. Of course she didn't want to go out with him. "I'm sorry." 

"No, no. Please don't apologize. I...I really…" Dammit. This wasn't working. She just needed to tell him the truth. But it was so hard to get the right words out. 

"Is it the age thing?"

"No. That uh, I got over that thought pretty quickly," she confessed with more than a bit of embarrassment. It had taken about a day for her to realize that didn't matter. "It's me." 

"Don't do that," Paul groaned. "Please don't use that classic excuse." 

A slight laugh bubbled up before Lydia could suppress it. "I'm not. But it really does have to do with me." She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "I'm divorced, Paul." 

A look of understanding suddenly overtook the disappointment. "That's alright. I understand that. It took me a long time to start dating again after my own divorce." At least it wasn't the age difference that still occasionally plagued his thoughts that was keeping her from wanting to go out. 

She nodded and bit at her lip again in thought. It was probably selfish but she still wanted to ask, "I know how this is going to sound and I'm sorry for that, but um, could we try being friends? I know that's not really what you had in mind but I'd still like to get to know you." 

A grin appeared on his face before he could stop it. While it wasn't what he originally wanted, he was actually okay with it. He still got to be around her and being friends sounded nice. "I like that idea." He also liked the fact this didn't sound like a complete rejection, no matter how much of a jerk that made him both feel and sound like. 

Lydia sighed in relief and visibly relaxed. “Great. Okay, friends it is.” It was a scary thought, being friends with him. But it was also one that made her happy. And a part of her wanted to pursue that, no matter how frightening it was. Because not everyone was like Alexander. It was just hard to remember that most of the time.

Paul nodded, wide grin still present. “I’ll leave you to your painting.” He watched her nod before finally leaving for his own apartment. Once inside he did a little happy dance. 

This felt like a huge development to him. Not only had she agreed to be friends but she’d actually shared a few things about herself. And if he really thought back on it, her behavior made sense. In a way, at least. Her hesitancy towards most interaction stemmed from what he guessed was a rather unpleasant marriage and later divorce. And he could understand that. He’d not only been married twice but had been in many relationships over the years, both good and bad. Truthfully, he was a bit upset at himself for not noticing and connecting the dots sooner. 

And while he would of liked to take her out on dates, he was fine with taking her out as a friend. She probably didn’t have many of them considering she was new to Berlin, let alone Germany. There was nothing wrong with starting out a friendship, anyway. And if it became something more then so be it. And even if it didn’t, at least he made a new friend and hopefully made someone's transition here a bit easier. 

Back in her apartment, Lydia was sitting slumped against her door, having an internal crisis. She wanted to be happy to include Paul in her short list of friends, it literally consisted of Jet and her Grandparents, but her mind was also screaming at her not to get attached or put herself in a situation like what she had to endure with Alexander. Her mind was also reminding her about how she could see right through his little nice act the second they met and she didn’t get that feeling with Paul. And if he did somehow turn out that way then he was a damn good actor.

There was a third voice though, small and nagging at the back of her mind, that was chastising her for rejecting his offer of dating. This would be the first time that she not only found someone appealing enough to date, but actually wanted to. Her mother picked out every boyfriend for her. She never picked anyone for herself. And now that she finally had the chance to be with someone of her own choosing, she rejects them. 

She desperately wanted to smother this third voice with a large pillow. Because she knew, no matter how much she tried to deny it, that this voice was right. But some wounds didn’t go away that easy and she was still feeling the affects of this one. 

Heaving a sigh, she stared at her new paint supplies for a minute before slowly getting up. Maybe she could work through her thoughts by painting. It had certainly worked before. And while she knew it wouldn’t fix everything, it was still worth a shot. So she put her record player to use, unpacked her paint supplies and got to work. 

It wasn’t until she was halfway through with the eyes, however, did Lydia realize she was painting a portrait of Paul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to say a quick thank you to those that have commented. It mean so much to know people are enjoying this story. Hopefully this chapter doesn't disappoint. I really wanted to convey just how much Lydia struggles with her attraction to Paul in this one and I think I accomplished that pretty well without making it all over the place. I hope.


	3. Yabbering Assholes

Many thought the life of a musician was all glamour, instruments, booze, women, and some occasional music. And to a certain degree, they were right. Unfortunately though, it also meant getting up at six a.m. two days in a row and trudging to your recording studio because some random producer was being an asshole. It also means ignoring said asshole for the next four hours while he yabbers on about how he knows your music better than you do. Even when you are the one to actually create it. Not him. 

“How much longer before Till kills him?”

Paul slowly blinked, having been halfway towards a nap, and glanced at his right. Richard was openly scowling at the producer now and even leaning over to whisper to his friend didn’t stop it. “Soon I hope. I’m starving.”

Richard snickered but chose not to voice his comments of possible cannibalism. “It’s been four hours. I’m starting to think it won’t happen.”

“We could always do it for him.”

Despite the image their singer portrayed on stage and during some interviews, Till was a gentle soul who was more inclined to help you than kill you. Even if you were someone that was getting on his nerves. Unless, of course, you do something like insult someone he cares about. That tends to change things. While he’d stand there and listen to you berate him until the sun went down just to avoid conflict, he wouldn’t so much as let you finish a sentence when it came to those he cared for. 

While this was, to a certain degree, an admirable trait, there were plenty of people on this earth that liked using it to their advantage. And with the way he was currently talking, this producer was about to be added to that list. 

“If you don’t I will,” Christoph growled from their left. He had just about enough of all this. The moron of a producer had been going on about the way Till sang for the past fifteen minutes and he was ready to ring his neck for it.

But before the three could start discussing how to hide the body, their bassist put an end to things.

"I believe that's enough for today," Oliver said while slowly rising from his chair. The producer opened his mouth to comment but was silenced by the much taller man holding up his hand. "We are going to have lunch and when we come back, I expect you to have a much different opinion on the new album." He then motioned for the others to go and, with a gentle grasp, helped Till to the door and whispered a few reassurances along the way.

They chose a small nearby restaurant to eat and relax at. It was a hole in the wall kind of place that would keep them from being noticed. And should anyone actually recognize them, they probably looked too tired and annoyed for someone to actually approach. As much as they loved the fans, today was not a good day. 

The men sat around a large wooden table as they ate and talked, just trying to decompress from four straight hours of criticism and harsh words. They all had half a mind not to go back to the studio at all today. What they had been through already felt like enough.

“So,” Richard hummed, “how is that new neighbor of yours?”

Paul raised an eyebrow and loudly slurped his soup in an effort to both annoy his friend and stall in answering. After four more spoonfuls and some open scowling, he relented. “She’s nice.” A glare and a huff made him chuckle. “I think we are going to try being friends.”

His fellow guitarist blinked in surprise and frowned. “Friends? I thought you were going to ask her out.” She was all he could talk about lately and they were going to be just friends? “Is she dating someone else?”

“No,” he shook his head, “I tried asking her out but she said no. Apparently she is recently divorced and doesn’t want to date yet.” Well, that was probably the least complicated way of putting it.

“Oh.”

Paul laughed. “Oh? Is that really all you’ve got? I was expecting a big speech.”

Richard huffed and took a drink before speaking, “What am I supposed to say? For the past two weeks you have done nothing but talk about this girl and now you are only going to be friends. I want to tell you how stupid that is, but here you are, doing things for the right reasons. I can’t fault you for that.” He himself was divorced and understood not wanting to date right away. Even though he kind of did it anyway. He had waited. Just not as long as he probably should have. 

“Exactly! I’m not going to pressure her into something she doesn’t want. She’s probably had enough heartbreak in her life and I don’t want to add to that. So we’re going to try being friends instead.”

“You need to make sure you aren’t being her friend for the wrong reasons,” Flake suddenly piped up. 

By now the rest of the band was interested in their guitarist’s conversation. Despite being relatively quiet, it was easy to hear what they were talking about considering they were all at the same table. 

“Flake is right,” Till said. “If you are only doing this because you want to eventually date her, then you will just cause her pain in the end. You said she is American, yes? She probably has no friends here. And right now, that is what she is looking for. If you are simply waiting until she lets her guard down and trusts you to then start something else, you are betraying her trust.”

Paul frowned and sat back in his chair. While he had considering this, he had not considered it to that extent. He knew he wanted to date her but he also wanted to be her friend. And he knew that he was perfectly fine with them staying friends as well. If she simply needed a friend, then that is what he would be. But he had not thought about betraying her trust in such a way. 

“Just think about it,” Till advised gently. “You don’t want to ruin the young lady, right?”

He nodded and scrubbed a hand across his face with a sigh. “Alright.” He definitely needed to think about his motives. 

“Good,” Till nodded. Deciding to leave his friend to his own thoughts, he turned his attention to their lead guitarist. “Now, when will we meet your new girlfriend?”

Richard groaned in annoyance, having heard this question far too often over the past two months. “Not this again.”

“I for one would like to meet this young lady,” Flake said with a slight grin. “She has you traveling back and forth just to see her.” Normally it was the other way around. 

“Is she a fellow musician?” Oliver inquired. “Is that why we haven’t met her yet?” Beside him, Christoph snickered. 

Richard scoffed. “She couldn’t play an instrument to save her life.” No matter how many times he tried teaching her the guitar. Per her own request, of course. “And there will be no meeting until she is ready.” 

In truth, they both weren’t ready for that step. Because they were both busy people they felt like they were still getting to know each other. And you didn’t bring someone to meet the family during that phase of a relationship. Because that’s what Rammstein was to him. An extension of his family. Hell, Till and himself were practically blood at this point. 

“Perhaps she will tame you,” Till teased, which only added to the snickers. 

He grumbled but made no move to deny it. She truly was a wonderful woman who he could see a future with. But he had that same thought with others in the past. Right now they were taking things slow due to their busy schedules and both of them guarding their hearts. Besides, he actually enjoyed taking things slow for once. It was a nice change of pace. But he didn’t have to tell them that. 

Their conversations for the next hour remained light and teasing. They were having too good of a time just enjoying themselves. In the end, they all agreed not to return to the studio today. Any calls asking why would immediately be redirected to Christoph. Who was more than happy to explain the situation. 

After going their separate ways, Paul ended up back at the apartment complex, intent on taking a nap. But that thought was momentarily put on hold when he spotted Lydia exiting her apartment. 

“Good morning,” he greeted with a tired smile. 

Lydia returned an equally tired one. “Good afternoon.”

They stood in the hallway, just staring at each other in borderline awkward silence until he asked, “Heading out for the day?”

“Sort of,” she murmured with a slight shrug. “I was planning on looking for a few record stores and maybe getting some more paint.” She was out of slate blue and light grey already. “How about you?”

He nodded at her answer and replied, “Nap," which made her chuckle. 

“Long day already?”

“Oh yeah. Six a.m. two days in a row.”

She frowned and tilted her head ever so slightly in thought. “Have you had lunch yet?”

Paul nodded. “A little bit ago.”

“Oh.” 

“Just a light soup,” he hastily added. “I could eat again, if that’s what you’re getting at.” He hoped she was asking what he thought she was.

“A little,” Lydia admitted with a blush. Her attempt at being confident around him wasn’t working that well. “But I don’t want to pull you away from your plans.”

“It’s just a nap,” he assured. “Nothing that can’t wait until later. And I could show you some record shops.” He’d lived here long enough to know where every one of them was at this point.

She gnawed at her bottom lip for a moment in thought before nodding. As long as she wasn’t being a bother, she was okay with getting him to come along. Just as long as she didn’t have to explain why she needed those particular paint colors. Or why she was out of them for that matter. 

He couldn’t fight a grin as he motioned for her to head toward the elevator. “Where would you like to go first?”

“How about those record stores?” While she would of prefered food first, she didn’t want to bombard him with it so soon after already eating. Even if it was just a light soup.

“Record stores are good,” Paul nodded while pressing the elevator button. “Are you looking for anything special?”

“Not really,” Lydia admitted while entering the elevator when he motioned for her to get in first. “I thought I might expand my collection. Maybe look for some inspiration while I’m at it.”

"Do you gain inspiration from the cover art or the music?"

"Normally it's the music but the artwork might kick start some ideas too."

After exiting the building they took a left and Paul looked to her and asked, "Is it alright if we walk?"

"That's fine. I figured I'd be doing a lot of walking today, anyway." Mentally she was patting herself on the back for thinking to wear her more comfortable flats. Even if her mother would of been screaming at her for so much as purchasing something other than a heel, let alone wearing it out in public. Pushing those thoughts aside as best she could, she questioned, "do you have a lot of places in mind?" 

He flashed a charming grin as he replied, "I had a few." The soft laugh he received in return was breathtaking. Not wanting to be caught staring, he cleared his throat and focused on where they were walking. "How did you start collecting records?" 

Lydia grinned at the memory it instantly brought forth. Or rather who it brought. "My best friend, actually. She took me on a trip to celebrate my upcoming wedding, sort of like an early bachelorette party." Well, that was the more pleasant version of the story. Jet had taken her away not for celebration, but rather to get her mind off the day her worst nightmare began. 

Paul nodded and said, "You haven't been collecting very long then." 

"Well, kind of. Not as long as a lot of people, sure, but it's been a few years."

"How old were you then?" 

"Twenty three." 

Paul froze, coming to a stand still in the middle of the street. She was what? There's no way he heard her right. "What? That's-that's so young!" 

Lydia nodded slowly. Apparently he had not been prepared for that answer. "A lot of people get married young though." 

"Sure, in my time! I even got married fairly young. But you guys just don't do that anymore. Don't you wait until at least thirty now? Or just not get married at all?" To him, people only married that young for two reasons. They were actually that stupidly in love with each other or they wanted out of a bad situation. 

She frowned and crossed her arms. This was not how she expected this to go. Lydia thought they'd continue with the light hearted conversation and fun. But if this was going to happen on only their first outing together as friends, she wasn't sure she wanted another one. "I got married young and that's just what happened. It was very clearly a mistake as it ended in divorce. I don't understand why you are making a big deal about this." 

He sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face. "I'm sorry." He hadn't meant to go off on her like that, but learning she married so young was a shock. And all he could think of was all the worst case scenarios as to why she did. "May I ask why?"

"No," was her immediate response. "You don't know me well enough to learn that kind of stuff. And I honestly don't think I want you to if that reaction was anything to go by." It was a startling reminder that her sweet neighbor Paul was not completely sweet after all if he could blow up so easily at something so simple. And that thought was making it hard for Lydia not to associate him with Alexander. 

Paul flinched but nodded. His reaction had definitely hit a nerve. "I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention to act that way. It was just such a shock that I," he shook his head with a sigh," I'm sorry." 

"Apology accepted," she murmured. "But if it happens again, I walk." 

"Of course!" 

"Let's be on our way, then." 

As she followed Paul down the street, Lydia began contemplating whether or not giving him one more shot was a good idea. She desperately wanted this to be a fluke or a random occasion where his emotions got the best of him. Perhaps the thought of her marrying so young had brought back some unpleasant memories. But, she decided, no matter what the reason was, if he ever did it again, she was packing up and moving to live with Jet in Paris. And officially giving up men for good. 

Their walk to the first record store was short but painfully silent. Both of them too caught up in their thoughts over what just happened to attempt to talk. While in this store they went their separate ways, looked for a bit and then met back up at the front and went on to the next. This went on at three more places before the relaxed atmosphere they had before slowly came back into play. Two more and they were looking through rows of records together, showing one another different finds and suggesting music to look into. Paul was even holding up random records with artistic and different looking covers to help Lydia with her quest for inspiration. 

He’d end up giving her a few ideas. 

While she paid for a few of her new finds, Paul took a moment to think and observe. He knew that he had a lot of making up to do for his outburst earlier, but he hoped he was at least on the road to it. The more he thought about it, the more he realized he had scared Lydia and pushed for more information than she was ready to give. And that was something he vowed not to do again. No matter what his own thoughts on the matter were.

And while this friendship was still terribly new, Paul knew he wanted it to last. Yes he still wanted to date her. But right now, he wanted her friendship. He wanted to help her heal from whatever it was that was still plaguing her from her previous marriage. A relationship didn’t have to be in the cards for them. And he was okay with that. Just as long as Lydia was happy, he’d be okay with just about anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for the comment on the last chapter! It makes me so happy to know people are enjoying this story. I did update the tags to try and better reflect what's going on and Lydia's struggles. If you think I forgot to add something though, let me know. Also, from now on I'm going to try making Monday's my official day for updates. I doubt I'll be able to put out a new chapter every week, but I figured I should at least have a day set aside for updates.


	4. The Landlord

“What made you start painting?”

“Haven’t we already talked about this?” Lydia inquired with a laugh.

“No. You said you started painting at sixteen and that you liked art class,” Paul gently corrected with a growing smile. “Just because you liked a class in school, doesn’t always mean you take it up for a living.”

The pair have been playing a game of twenty questions for the last fifteen minutes while waiting on the landlord. Lydia accidentally locked herself out of her apartment and Paul took it upon himself to wait with her when he discovered her on the way back from the studio. Despite being exhausted, he was more than happy for the opportunity to be with her. Even if it meant sitting on a dirty hallway floor for who knows how long.

“It made me feel free,” Lydia confessed after a moment of contemplation. While she found it hard to share anything about herself to anyone but Jet, there was something about the fact he was not only paying attention to her, but actually listened and remembered as well that made her want to share some things with him. No matter how hard that tended to be. 

He frowned and hesitantly asked, “Was this not something you often had?”

“No, not at all. My parents, especially my mother, controlled as much of my life growing up as they possibly could.”

“So, everything?”

“Yes. From the people I was friends with, to the clothes I wore and the diet I kept,” Lydia replied shakily. “That would later include my marriage.” As much as she hated to say it, a part of her felt he deserved to know something. If nothing else than to better understand her and what he was getting into by being her friend. And she didn’t want another repeat of his reaction to learning how young she was when she got married. 

Paul inhaled sharply and squeezed his eyes shut, desperately trying not to react negatively. Because he wanted to. He wanted to yell, to shout his anger from the rooftops, and then call her parents and scream at them. And the sad thing was, he didn’t even know the half of it. After taking a few minutes to compose himself, he asked, “Is this the first time you’ve been able to make choices for yourself?”

“Not entirely, but yes,” she replied honestly. “I would spend summers with my Grandparents and later my best friend, Jet, would also join in. That was the only time I had any real freedom. And then years later, after filing for divorce, I moved in with Jet for a while. She helped a lot.”

“You’ve been through so much already,” he muttered while scrubbing a hand across his face. Along with whatever she suffered at the hands of her ex-husband, it sounded like she endured even more with her own parents. Though this shouldn’t be particularly shocking as a few of his friends endured quite a lot at the hands of their own parents as well. 

“But I’m not the only one.”

“God, I’m glad I never fucked up raising my kids.”

Lydia immediately sat up straight at that revelation. “You have kids?”

Paul flinched. Dammit. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “Uh, yes.Two of them. Sorry, I uh, didn’t mean to blurt that out.”

She nodded slowly, trying to process exactly what he just said. She knew and was mostly okay with the fact that he was older than herself and was married at some point. But children never crossed her mind. Perhaps it should have though. He was considerably older than her and had already lived a good portion of his life. So of course he had children. 

“You are older than them!” He was quick to reassure. And then a moment later, “How old are you again?”

She laughed despite herself. “This is so weird, isn’t it?”

“Maybe just a little.”

“Though, I suppose, if we are going to be friends, we should probably try getting over the weirdness,” she said with another laugh and an attempt at confidence. 

“Oh?” Paul raised a brow. Despite her citing friendship, it somehow felt like she was talking about much more than that. Perhaps it was the tone of voice she used. While it was rather teasing, there was a hint of flirtiness to it that he’d yet to hear from her. Until now, that is. 

“Mhmm. I mean, people will probably stare a lot considering the age difference is noticeable. That alone will bring its own brand of weirdness. But, you are a musician. So you must be used to having younger women around.”

His eyebrows practically shot up into his hairline. “And how do you know I’m a musician?”

“Do you not play the guitar you constantly have with you?”

He couldn’t help but start laughing at that. While she certainly wasn’t wrong there, she apparently had yet to figure out who he was in the music world. “Yes I am a musician. But there are no young women running around like you’re thinking.” Well, if you didn’t count the after concert parties. 

Lydia grinned but didn’t say anything else. After talking a little bit about her life before Berlin, it felt like a weight had been lifted off her chest. While simultaneously a much smaller one was immediately put in its place with the worry she had said too much. But he didn’t seem to mind that part of their talk, so she was trying to repress that feeling as much as possible. It was sort of working. 

“So, Mr. Musician, are you in a band?”

The sudden ding of the elevator doors opening saved Paul from having to answer. He was grateful but it also made him wonder if he should admit what he actually did for a living considering she made a big step today in talking about herself. And about such a big subject, too.

The clicking of heels and jiggling of keys indicated it to be their landlord. She was a tall, modelesk woman with brown hair and green eyes. She also had the attitude of almost every spoiled high society rich kid that Lydia grew up with. 

“I do hope this does not happen again, Miss Stillwell. I cannot continue to come down here just to help you.” She also spoke exactly like Lydia’s mother. 

“Of course. I promise it won’t happen again.” It wasn’t like this was the first time she had to call her or anything.

“You see to that.” She quickly unlocked the door and flashed Paul a sultry smile. “Hello, Paul.”

He resisted the urge to flinch and awkwardly smiled back. “Hello.”

She smirked and all but threw the door open and turned back to Lydia. “Have a lovely evening, Miss Stillwell.”

“You as well,” Lydia replied with the false smile she’d perfected over the years. 

After a nod and a little wave in Paul’s direction, she sauntered down the hallway and back into the elevator. It wasn’t until the doors had closed did they both release a sigh of relief. 

“Well that was creepy,” Lydia said with a wince. “Is she always like that with you?”

Paul nodded. “Since the day I moved in. If this place wasn’t so close to work I would have moved a long time ago.” Work being the main base his label used for album recordings. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.”

After a few minutes of silence that was beginning to get awkward, Lydia stood up and brushed off her pants. “Well, I should probably let you go take that nap now.”

He chuckled, “Don’t make me sound so old.” As if to prove a point, his knees noisily popped as he stood up. He chuckled at the accomplished look on her face. “But I am going to take a nap.”

She grinned and moved to stand in her doorway. “Goodnight, Paul.”

“Good afternoon,” he replied with a grin. It was a little after mid day, after all. “Have fun painting.” He was about halfway to his door before he paused and turned around, immediately filling with a strange warmth when he noticed she had yet to actually move into her apartment and was watching him instead. Well, might as well get this out in the open now. “When you get the time tonight, will you do something for me? Look up the name Paul Landers.”

Lydia frowned but nodded. That was a strange request but she was also a little curious as to why he would even ask that of her. Why would he want her to look up a name?

“Thank you,” Paul murmured before crossing the rest of the hall and entering his apartment. It wasn’t the most conventional way of telling her about himself, but it would work for now. He just hoped this wouldn’t scare her away. 

“You are so strange,” she murmured into the empty hallway, a mix of fondness and confusion rolling through her. So very strange, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a little after one in the morning where I am so it is technically Monday. Honestly though, I'm too excited over this chapter to not just go ahead and post it now. While it's not super eventful, there are some big things that happen. Lydia shares a pretty major piece of information about herself and Paul does the same. Just not in a conventional way. Hopefully it turned out okay. And thank you again to everyone that reviewed the last chapter!


	5. Paris Perception

Lydia groaned in an over dramatic fashion as her phone began ringing. She'd been staring at the same blank canvas for the past twenty minutes, hoping for some kind of inspiration. And just when she thought she was finally getting somewhere, her phone rang. Her mind was a distraction today, drifting back to Paul and the discovery she made about him a few days ago.

She fished the phone out of her back pocket with a grumble and pressed 'answer' without actually checking to see who it was. Thankfully it was no one of consequence. This time. 

"Hello?" 

"Bonjour, Darling!"

"Good afternoon, Jet," Lydia smirked. 

"How is my darling girl doing?" Jet was a rather affectionate person and her terms of endearment were no different. At first it took some time to get used to, but by now Lydia all but craved the affection and sweetness. 

"I'm good, Jet. I'm good." 

"Mhmm. And how's Paul?" 

Lydia sighed into the phone. "I don't know. Probably just as fine as he was when you asked about him last time." 

"You haven't seen him in days, have you?" Jet inquired with a slightly teasing chuckle. 

"No," she groaned. "He's always gone by the time I get up." The last time she saw him was four days ago, a day after he asked her to look him up online. This time he had his guitar case and a bag with him. 

"So mysterious," Jet snickered. "Are you missing the old man already?" 

"Oh like you're one to talk." Her friend has been involved with a much older musician for a few months now. Despite living in two different countries, things were going rather well between them. 

"I may not see him everyday but at least I still talk to him. You need to get that man’s number.”

“Yes, I know. I’m very aware of this.”

“If you are aware of it, then do it. You need to talk things out.”

Lydia snorted as she stood up from her stool and walked over to the couch, plopping down onto the soft cushions and spreading out. Despite the exasperation and teasing, she knew that her best friend was trying to be encouraging and supportive. She just had her own way of going about it. “He makes me nervous,” she whispered. “What little confidence we’ve built up is just...gone when he’s around. It’s like I can’t think straight.”

“Oh sweetheart,” Jet sighed into the phone. Her heart broke for her friend. Because of her mother picking everyone out for her, Lydia never got the chance to experience these feelings or what it was like to have a real crush. Until now. And to top it off, she had to work through all that while recovering from all the abuse her ex-husband put her through. “Do you want to know what I think?” After hearing a hum of confirmation, she continued, “I think you have feelings for Paul. I think you’ve finally met someone who checks off all those little boxes on the list. And it scares the hell out of you because of that fucking moron of an ex-husband. So you’re desperately trying to push down and smother those feelings until they no longer exist. But darling, they do exist. And they will continue to until one day you can’t contain them anymore and you have to express them.”

“How can you be so fucking perceptive all the way from Paris?” Lydia groaned. Because of course Jet knew exactly how she was feeling. 

“I do what I can,” she laughed.

“What do I do?”

“Whatever you feel comfortable with,” Jet advised. "Just start with that.”

Lydia groaned and confessed, “I don’t even know how to feel that yet."

“Have you tried talking to him about this?” she asked gently. 

Another groan. “No.”

“Then go talk to him! I don’t care if you have to be drunk to do it, but you need to explain how you feel.” She’d only been drunk twice in her life and each time she was very chatty and a bit too truthful. 

“I know I do. But the very thought of it scares me,” Lydia confessed. “Telling him anything about my life scares me, let alone my feelings.”

“And that’s okay,” Jet assured. “Everyone gets scared. Hell, even I get scared! But if it excites you even though it scares you, maybe you should give it a shot. Give him a shot. And you know what, if anything happens that you don’t want, I can just come down there and kill him.”

Laughter swept freely through Lydia. "I can see the headlines now! 'Famed art critic and gallery owner kills unsuspecting man for making best friend cry'." After the laughter died down from both sides, she continued. "Thank you, Jet. I really needed this today.”

“You’re welcome, Darling. And don’t hesitate to call me, okay? I’ll be happy to listen.”

“I know.” A knock on the door cut Lydia off from saying anything else. Tilting the phone away from her mouth to call a, “just a second!” she quickly turned her attention back to her friend. “I’m gonna let you go. I’ve got someone at my door.” 

“Maybe it’s Paul,” Jet teased. Upon hearing her friends scoff, she snickered. “Alright. I’ll call you in a few days. Goodbye, Darling.”

“Bye,” Lydia chuckled before hanging up the phone. She quickly scrambled off the couch and to the door. Pulling it open, she was surprised to see Paul standing there. The phrase ‘Speak of the devil and he shall appear’ immediately came to mind. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Paul echoed and nervously cleared his throat, “Have you had dinner yet?” Friends went out to dinner all the time, right? What was he thinking, of course they did. He had dinner with the guys all the time. So the same has to apply to being friends with girls. Didn’t it?

She frowned and shook her head. “No. Is it already time for that?”

He chuckled and nodded. “It’s already after six.”

“Oh,” she blushed. “I guess I got caught up trying to paint.”

“So, how about it?”

The conversation she had mere minutes ago with Jet began flooding her brain. Him showing up almost felt like a sign. And they couldn’t exactly ignore what happened the last time they were together. “Um, could I uh..talk to you about something first?”

Paul frowned and asked, “Is everything alright?” Mentally he was already preparing for the fallout of letting her know who he really was. Because that just had to be what this was about. There was no way she was okay with being friends with some musician who played music about cannibalism and used fire in their stage show on a regular basis. 

“No? Maybe? I don’t know,” Lydia confessed. “I just want to talk to you about this before I lose my confidence.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “Whatever you need.” 

“Thank you. Um, do you wanna come in? This might take a while to get out.”

“Yeah, sure. Absolutely.” 

Maybe he’s just as nervous as I am, Lydia thought to herself while letting him inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so short, it's just kinda what came out. But you get a cliffhanger and a small introduction to Jet! She'll be making a much bigger appearance a bit further into the story though, as she is Lydia's best friend and I plan on actually including her instead of just mentioning her. I'm just not entirely sure what chapter she'll show up in yet. Hopefully this little bit here lives up to the powerful friendship I keep mentioning.


	6. Confession Time

"Would you like something to drink?" Lydia asked while letting Paul into the apartment. She could already hear her mother's voice screaming in her head for being a bad hostess. 

Paul shook his head and glanced around. "No. I'm alright, thank you." 

She nodded to the couch, "We should probably sit down for this." 

He nodded and followed her to the couch. They took seats on opposite ends, leaving room for at least two more people between them. They sat closer together than this in the hallway! And that was on the floor. 

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Paul piped up. “This is about who I am, isn’t it?”

Well that wasn’t exactly what this was about. But we might as well get it out of the way first, Lydia thought to herself. “Not completely. But I do want to talk to you about that. Why did you have me look you up instead of just talking about yourself?”

“I’m not really sure,” he confessed. “I wanted to tell you because you shared such a big part of yourself with me. So I might as well share too, right? I guess I thought it would be easier for you to just read up on me and then answer any questions you had later. Probably not the best choice, huh?”

“Not really,” she said with a sigh. “I would of preferred talking to you instead of reading all this stuff and not knowing what’s true and what’s not and then going days without seeing you. I mean, I don’t even know for sure how tall you are. Everyone seems to have a different opinion and with every source you just get smaller.”

He gave a weak smile and said, “But I’m still taller than you.” It did the trick. She laughed, just like he wanted. While he understood her frustration and that his choice really wasn’t a great one, he still didn’t want to dampen the mood. “How about this, ask whatever questions you like and I’ll try to answer them?” Might as well go with his original idea.

“How many times were you married?”

“Twice.”

“How tall are you really?”

Paul smirked, “Just taller than you.”

“Of course,” she muttered while running a hand through her hair. It looks like she wasn’t getting a clear answer on that after all. “How old are you?”

He visibly flinched at that but still answered despite how uncomfortable it made him, “Fifty four.” The age gap still bugs him from time to time. 

She nodded slowly with a slight frown. He was a little older than she originally thought but not by too much. Taking a deep steadying breath she asked, “Did you really take and then keep your first wife’s surname?”

He chuckled and nodded. “I did. I also switched my first and middle name.”

“Why?”

“Made me sound more like a rockstar. That and I was never a big fan of the name ‘Heiko’.”

Lydia laughed softly at that. She’d met more than a few people over the years who didn’t like their first name but she never met anyone who decided to actually change it. “Is it a regular thing for you to make out with your fellow guitarist?” So she might of been teasing him just a little. But it felt nice to do. 

Now it was his turn to laugh. “Not really, no. It was just something we thought would be fun this past tour. We’re both affectionate people,” he shrugged, “so it just kind of came naturally.”

That wasn’t quite the answer she was expecting but she appreciated his honesty. It was actually kind of nice to see a guy not start freaking out when it came to being affectionate around other men. She wanted to ask him other things, more personal than what she found online. Like what was it really like growing up in the GDR, why did he marry so young and why did he freak out when he previously learned of her own young marriage? Did he really use happiness and kindness as a coping mechanism for his own sorrows and inner turmoil?

But part of her felt these were too private and perhaps a bit insensitive to him so soon in their friendship. She certainly didn’t want to bring their light and fun conversation to a screeching halt. So she asked a much safer question. “What’s your favorite guitar?” 

He playfully groaned and shook his head. “I can’t answer that. You know that, right?”

“Give it a try,” she chuckled. 

He sat in silence for a moment, genuinely trying to think of how to answer her. It was honestly a tough question for him. While he did occasionally go through phases of favorites to play at that moment, each guitar had a specific use and a mood to play them in. “I really don’t know.”

“Alright. I’ll leave that one alone for now. How about this, do you have a director you don’t really like working with?”

“Yes. And if you watch our making of video’s, it’s not hard to guess which one it is.”

“Fair enough,” Lydia hummed. While she was fairly certain she knew exactly who he was talking about, she wouldn’t voice it if he wouldn’t. "What color are your eyes?"

He grinned and shrugged. "You are the artist. What colors would you use to paint them?" Due to them looking a bit different in certain lighting, Paul got this question quite a few times in his life. After a while he got tired of giving the real answer and just started smarting off. It was a lot of fun. And he certainly didn't mind the opportunity to tease her a bit. 

"Slate blue and light grey," she immediately responded and flushed seconds later upon realizing she didn't hesitate to answer. The implication that she not only thought of it enough to figure it out but also remembered it spoke volumes. And it certainly didn't go unnoticed. 

While he didn't say anything, Paul's mind was racing with the possibilities of exactly how long it took her to decide on those two colors with such certainty that she didn't even have to think about it. It also made his heart race. Perhaps she thought of him just as much as he thought of her. "That's pretty close, I think." 

She nodded and looked away, an even deeper blush now covering her face. The tips of her ears were red now. Never before had anyone made her blush so much. And such a dark color too. But then again, Lydia never felt like this with anyone before. Certainly not her husband or the other boyfriends her mother so kindly picked out for her. They all made her nervous, sure. But not like this. 

Before it was nervousness that twisted into anxiety at just what those boys could do. Would they be manipulative and conniving like her mother? Would they drag out all of her secrets just to use them against her? Did Mrs. Stillwell pick them out because they were just like her and she wanted to keep her daughter in the same abusive environment? Unfortunately the answer was almost always yes. 

But this kind of nervousness Lydia experienced with Paul brought butterflies and flushed cheeks, a racing heart and constant thoughts of him flooding her mind. She even found herself painting him on more than one occasion. As much as there was the urge to constantly be around him, the urge to flee was just as great. To distance herself and bar her heart from male affection of any kind. Because the thought of anyone, especially Paul, being like Alexander was far too heartbreaking. She feared this would be a constant thought from now on. 

While her mind raced, Paul watched her with soft and worry filled eyes. The emotions running across her face was dizzying. And when they finally settled on sorrow, his heart felt like it was breaking just a bit. He wondered what she could possibly be thinking of to make that emotion so prominent and feared it was her ex-husband. He would never want to know how right he was. 

“So, what else would you like to know?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Oh come on. You had days to think of all these questions and yet you have barely asked me anything.”

Lydia shrugged, mind still not completely in the present. “You’re right. I did have time to think but I guess I should of written everything down because now I can’t seem to remember anything else. All I can think of now is how happy I am around you and how much that scares me. I find myself enjoying being your friend so much and I’m scared this is going to end because I don’t want to lose this. I don’t want to lose you.” It took a second for her own ramblings to register in her brain but when it did she felt incredibly embarrassed about what she just admitted. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

He shook his head, a faint blush now tinting his cheeks pink and awe thrumming through his veins. “It’s okay.” He scooted closer and hesitantly took one of her hands in his, immensely enjoying the warmth and the way her eyes briefly fluttered shut at their contact. “I want to hear this. I want to know your thoughts and feelings, no matter what they may be. I mean, I think I made my own pretty clear already. But I want to be around you and a part of your life no matter what form it takes.” He gently kissed the back of her hand and murmured, “I'm here however you need me.”

“I don’t want to lead you on,” she confessed in a whispered with tears forming. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“But I’m volunteering,” Paul joked shakily, his own eyes beginning to prick with tears. “I don’t think of this as you leading me on because like I said, I want you in whatever form that takes. I’m perfectly happy being your friend because that is what you need,” he paused for a moment to kiss the back of her hand again and to joke, “and if you need a lover in the future I’m fine with that.” He was pleased to hear her laugh. “I’m good with just being around you, Lydia.”

She nodded and wiped away her tears with her free hand. “Okay. But you have to promise me something. If it gets to be too much I want to know. And I don’t want you to wait on me. If you find someone, please pursue them. Don’t let me hold you back from being happy.” Her own happiness be damned. She didn’t want to ruin anything for Paul.

While he knew he couldn’t promise that, he still nodded along. “Alright.” As long as he didn’t have to utter those words he’d be fine. Because he wouldn’t be able to do it. Even though they had only been in each other’s lives for a short time, Paul knew his own heart and emotions too well. He was slowly falling in love with her. And he didn’t want to stop no matter how much heartbreak it may or may not cause him. “Now, I believe I asked you about dinner earlier.”

“You did.”

“How about we stop our crying and get out of here? If you still want to go, that is.”

“I do,” Lydia said with a slowly growing smile. “Dinner sounds really good, actually.”

“Good,” he nodded and pressed another kiss to the back of her hand before letting it go and standing up. “Are you in the mood for anything specific?”

“Not really. Do you mind if I get changed though? I’m kind of covered in paint,” she said while motioning to her paint stained clothes. While none of it was fresh, it was still something she wore if she intended to do something abstract and messy. Not really something one goes out to dinner in. 

“Of course,” Paul replied. “Do whatever you need to do.”

She nodded and stood up. “I’ll be just a minute.” While scurrying off to her room, Lydia realized this was not at all how she expected tonight to go or the conversation she wanted to have. But, in a way, she did still confess her feelings for Paul. Just not in the way she had intended. Perhaps now things would be easier for the both of them. At least that’s what she hoped for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it still considered mutual pining if they know their feelings are reciprocated on some level? Cause I'm so tempted to tag that now. Hopefully this chapter isn't too disappointing as I'm sure it's not exactly what everyone expected but hopefully it's still enjoyable. Thank you to everyone who commented on the last chapter! I look forward to what you all have to say about this one as well.


	7. Crisis Averted

“And how’s that going for you?”

“It’s fine,” Paul assured. “Really. It’s better than I could have hoped for.” She confessed to having some form of feelings for him. What more could he ask for? Well, there were a few things, actually. But he was fine with this. Moving at Lydia’s pace was exactly what they needed. 

Till made a noise of acknowledgement and followed his friend into the apartment building and the elevator. “It really doesn’t bother you that there may be no future there?”

“Of course. I’m not getting any younger here and the thought of just waiting around for the rest of my life isn’t great. But I still want to do this. I want to move at her pace and let her get comfortable. She’s been through a lot, you know? Pushing her would just make it worse.” And that was the last thing he wanted. 

“Perhaps you and Richard really have grown up. Here you are putting someone else’s comfort above your own and he’s letting things grow in time instead of rushing into it.”

Paul rolled his eyes at his friends teasing but made no move to argue because he was right. They were both being patient and doing things correctly for a change. “What about you? How’s your love life?”

“None existent,” Till laughed. “I decided to let the album be my main focus. For now, at least. But after we’re done recording,” he shrugged, “there is someone I have my eye on.” Though admiring her from afar instead of making a move was a high possibility. Even after all these years his shyness sometimes got in the way of his own happiness. 

“That’s very mature of you.”

“Not really. I just don’t want to be with her if I can’t give her my full attention.” And the chances of that were slim considering how packed his schedule tended to be. “We’ll see what happens when the album is finished.” As soon as he finished speaking the elevator dinged and the doors opened. “Get your keys out, would you? This bag is getting heavy.”

Paul chuckled, “You were the one who insisted on carrying it.” Nevertheless he still began fishing the keys out of his pocket while exiting the elevator. “That bag can’t be that heavy. We didn’t buy that much.” They got just enough for a special dish. Though with Till’s rampant appetite, there probably was enough in the bag to make it heavy after a while. 

“Paul?”

“Hmm?”

“There is a young lady sitting in front of your door and she appears to be crying.”

“What?” Paul nearly dropped his keys when he saw who his friend was talking about. “Lydia!” She was on the ground in front of his door, curled up with her arms wrapped around her knees, tears streaming down her face and he was pretty sure she was shaking.

At the sound of her name she looked up and shakily wiped her tears, confirming his suspicions, and croaked, “Paul.” She’d been sitting there for an embarrassing amount of time. 

He was quick to rush over to her while Till stood a good ways behind to observe and not frighten her further. Because right now, she looked a lot like the scared animals he used to befriend and tame growing up. She just needed someone to sooth her troubles and it looked like his friend was doing a good job of that. 

Paul knelt down in front of her and gently grasped her hand while wiping away her tears with the other. “What happened?”

“I thought I saw him,” she confessed. “I thought I saw Alexander on the way home.”

“Are you sure it was him?”

“Not completely. I turned around and this man was walking behind me. He looked so much like him and then the flashbacks started.” Lydia shuddered, “I ran back here as fast as I could.”

“Why didn’t you hide in your apartment?” He asked gently. 

She suddenly looked embarrassed. “I wasn’t sure that he didn’t have someone waiting for me so I came to you instead.” Almost unconsciously she picked Paul as her safe haven. “I’m sorry. I should of called Jet and talked to her about it instead of just waiting here.” A fresh round of tears appeared when she noticed Till and the guilt began to sit in. “And you have a guest. I’m so sorry, Paul.”

“It’s alright,” Paul quickly soothed. “I’m not worried about that. What I’m worried about is you. Why don’t we go to your place and check it out and make sure it’s safe, okay?” In a way, he was thrilled she trusted him. But he also felt incredibly guilty that he wasn’t there for her when she needed him most. 

“And I will start on dinner,” Till interjected. He had a feeling Lydia would of protested the help if he didn’t say anything. “Pass me the keys, would you Paul?” At his request his friend carefully tossed up the keys, still in the same kneeling position. 

“I’m sorry.”

Till shook his head and gave his most gentle smile, “It’s alright. How about you join us for dinner and we properly introduce ourselves then, hmm?”

After receiving an encouraging nod from Paul, she agreed. The guitarist gently pulled her up to stand while Till went into his apartment. He then took her hand and slowly led her over to her own door. Afterwards keys were requested and put in his worn but capable hands. Paul then entered the apartment first and took a look around to find it empty, just as he suspected. 

“All clear.”

“Thank you.”

Paul flashed a gentle but encouraging smile. “I’m happy to help you in any way I can.”

"I'm really sorry about all this," Lydia murmured. The horror and embarrassment was beginning to set in again. She knew that she should of waited in her own apartment when it was clear that Paul wasn't home. But in the heat of the moment, all she could think about was him. The one man on the planet, besides her grandfather, that made her feel safe. 

"You don't need to apologies. I'm," he frowned and shook his head, "I'm sorry if this comes out wrong given the circumstances, but I'm happy you trust me." 

"I think I've trusted you for a while. I just didn't want to admit it," she confessed while crossing her arms and shrugging. "It's scary to admit something like that." 

"I know. But I'm really proud of you." 

"Oh. Th-thank you." 

He flashed another gentle, but still very charming, smile. "How about you freshen up and join us for dinner? I can finally introduce you to Till." 

"He's your lead singer, right?" 

"He is." 

"Oh no," Lydia groaned. "I made such a horrible first impression. My mother would kill me." Or at the very least slap her a few times. Mrs. Stillwell always took first introductions very seriously. 

"Don't worry about that. He's not that kind of person. The most he's probably concerned about is whether or not you're okay," Paul quickly assured. If Till didn't like her, he wouldn't of invited her to dinner. Well, he might actually. If only to keep peace. But this wasn't quite that sort of situation. And his friends had been pushing to meet her anyway. 

"Okay," she murmured after a moment. "I'll be right back." At his nod of confirmation, she quickly left for her bedroom. 

While waiting he glanced around again, this time noticing a painting she had sitting up on an easel. It was an abstract work with swirls and designs of blue, black, deep purples and rich reds. While he was by no means an expert in that kind of art, he still thought it looked nice. Lydia was really talented. It didn’t take being an art critic to know that.

By the time she exited her bedroom, Paul was almost leaning into the painting, having noticed more and more details the longer he stared at it. He’d even begun to raise his hand to touch it, wondering if some of the brush strokes were as rough as they looked. 

“Please don’t touch that.”

He all but jumped back. “Sorry.”

"I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. It’s just, well it’s an oil painting and those take way too long to dry. It would of stained your fingers,” she said, a bit embarrassed by her abrupt admonishment. 

Unfortunately Paul stopped paying attention about halfway through her speech, as he finally turned from the painting and noticed what she had changed into. A dark blue dress that hugged her torso in all the right places before billowing out at her hips and ending just past her knees. It looked like it would flare up around her legs and reveal a rather lovely amount of skin if she did a twirl. It also had the lowest neckline he had yet to see on her. While it wasn’t anything scandalous by any means, it was still more than he regularly seen. And he was completely entranced. 

“Is this okay? I know it’s just dinner between the three of us but I thought I might try and make up for earlier. I know you said he wouldn’t care but I still wanted to try. My mother would throw a fit if I didn’t,” Lydia rambled on, completely oblivious to the guitarist’s staring. Well, until the silence stretched on for an incredibly long time with him just looking at her. “Paul?”

The sound of his name finally pulled him out of it. “Huh? Oh. Uh, you look good.” He cleared his throat and looked away, a blush rising. “Good. Very good.”

She couldn’t fight down a smile when she noticed he was blushing. That was a nice surprise. He didn’t do that often. “Thank you.”

He nodded, “Shall we?”

“Yes please.”

He grinned and gently took her hand, making sure to kiss the back of it, and lead her back to his apartment. Till happily greeted them upon entry. 

“Welcome back. Is everything alright now?” He asked, genuinely concerned. He was also making an effort to be outgoing and friendly despite his shyness. Something both parties greatly appreciated, especially his long time friend who knew just how difficult that could be for him at times. 

“Yes, thank you. I’m sorry about earlier,” Lydia apologized. 

“It’s alright,” Till assured before deciding to tease her a bit. “The dress more than makes up for it.”

“Oh,” She blushed. That was definitely not something she expected to hear. Beside her, Paul groaned and shook his head. He gently squeezed her hand before letting go and walking into the kitchen. 

“Do you have to tease her?”

Till grinned at her and shrugged. “If I did not tease her, how would you know I liked her, hmm? I tease because I care and approve.”

She blushed an even deeper shade of red at that. She certainly didn’t expect any kind of approval from the man. Especially not with how they first met earlier. 

"Have you ever been to Paul's place before?" 

"I have not." More often than not he came to hers or they met up somewhere. 

"It's a nice place, isn't it?" 

"Yes. It's very nice." 

"Makes you want to just move in, doesn't it?" Till asked with a grin. 

“I would like to say the rest of the band won’t be like this but they probably will.”

“They might be worse.”

Paul sighed and nodded in agreement. “They might be worse.” He turned to Lydia and gestured to the bar stools sitting at the little island in the kitchen. “We might as well sit and watch him cook.”

Lydia nodded and followed him. He surprised her by pulling out the stool for her and careful scooting it back in place once she was seated. “Thank you.” She rather enjoyed him being a gentlemen. 

He nodded and moved to pull out the stool beside her but paused when he noticed her feet resting against one of the wooden poles. “You are not wearing shoes.”

“Oh!” She gasped, having not noticed it. She'd slipped out of her shoes earlier when she changed clothes and forgot to put on another pair. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize. I’m so used to being around the apartment barefoot.”

“It’s fine,” he rushed out. Her being barefoot didn’t bother him. He found it rather cute, actually. What he’d actually taken notice of were her toe nails being painted black. He’d never seen the color on her before. “You paint your nails.”

“I do,” she said slowly, unsure of the significance. 

“They’re black,” he croaked out. 

“They are.”

“It looks go on you.”

“Thank you. It’s not a color I normally wear,” Lydia admitted with a faint blush. Any time he gave her compliments, no matter how random, they always made her flush.

“You’re welcome,” Paul replied in a strained voice.

Till snickered from his spot by the stove. If something as simple as her painting her nails black got Paul so worked up, then tonight was going to be very interesting. Even if he had to point out random things about her to get his friend to croak like that again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long to update. Iv'e been very busy lately with finding, and thankfully getting, a new job. But to make up for it I decided to post an extra chapter today and then the regular update on Monday. My updates might not be every week like they were because I will be starting a new job and the holiday season is normally super busy for retail, but I'm going to try my best to not go long periods of time between postings.


	8. Dinner Time

"I can't believe you've never been to a guitar store."

"Really? With my mother the way that she is? Please. I'm lucky I got to paint." 

Paul hummed softly in agreement. Even from what little he knew about Mrs. Stillwell, he knew she would of went ballistic if she found out her daughter went to such a place. Even if it was completely harmless. "Do you know how to play any instruments?" He asked while following her into the apartment. 

"I do, actually," Lydia answered with a chuckle. "Mother thought piano and violin were beautiful and peaceful. I was pretty good at both of them. But it's been years since I last played." She stopped after getting married because no one was making her play them anymore. Her ex-husband wasn’t exactly fond of the arts. Though he sure could fake interest when he had to. 

He chuckled and sat down on the couch. “So it was only the proper instruments for you.”

“Exactly.” She placed her newly bought records on the coffee table, deciding to organize them into her collection later, and walked into the kitchen. “What would you like for dinner?”

“Oh you don’t have to make me anything. We just had dinner together two nights ago.” And what an interesting dinner it was. Till was very inquisitive and in a teasing mood. Thankfully there was more laughter than awkward moments. It just took a little while to get there. 

“I know but I already planned on cooking something and since you are here..” She trailed off with a shrug and a small smile. “Help me decide.” She was feeling more comfortable around him today. More bold. It was nice. 

He was suddenly struck by the feeling of domesticity. A view into a life they could have together. And it made his heart pound and butterflies erupt in his stomach. It had been so long since he felt something so wonderfully pleasant. After taking a moment to soak it in he nodded and slowly rose from the couch to join her in the kitchen. 

After a bit of debating and scouring the cupboards, they decided to throw together some form of a pasta dish. 

While waiting for the water to boil, Pall leaned against the counter and watched her chop vegetables. “Who taught you how to cook?”

“Believe it or not, my mother. She taught me how to cook, clean, and do all the household chores. Despite us having maids and cooks, she thought it was all an essential part of being a good housewife,” Lydia replied. 

“Your mother really is something.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

No but he wanted to. He wanted to know every detail, no matter how horrible, of her life before Berlin. Her life growing up, the parts she spent with her grandparents and Jet, even the years with her ex-husband. Paul wanted to know everything because it was her. Because she mattered to him in ways he couldn’t explain and made him feel things he hadn’t felt in years. And it was all because of Lydia. One day he hoped she would be comfortable enough to talk to him and tell him these things because he wants to hear them. He wants to hear it all. 

Just as long as it was her. That’s all Paul wanted.

"The water's boiling over."

He jolted from his thoughts and rushed to turn the stove down. He didn't want to make even more of a mess than he already had. He hadn't meant to get lost in thought but that seemed to happen a lot around her. 

Lydia smiled to herself as she watched him rush about. He was absolutely adorable. She spoke again while turning back to the vegetables. "Jet called me this morning." 

"Oh? Was everything alright?" He asked, half distracted by keeping an eye on the simmering water. 

"I think so. She wants me to come visit for a little while." 

He frowned and straightened up, no longer interested in dinner. "Is this because of what happened?" 

"Sort of," she admitted with a sigh. "She wants to make sure it wasn't really him but I think she's using this as an excuse to get me to visit." 

"Do you want to go?" 

"Yes." 

Paul nodded slowly with a frown still present on his face. "Then you should go." While he didn't want to see her leave, he also didn't want to stop her from seeing her friend. 

"You wouldn't mind?" Lydia asked, now turning from the cutting board and facing him. 

"Why would I mind?" 

She shrugged. "I don't know. I thought you might of been keeping an eye on me." 

He smiled faintly at that. "I always keep an eye on you. I like it because it gives me an excuse to be around you more. But if you want to go, then go. It might do you some good to get away from here for a while. We all need breaks sometimes." 

"Thank you," she said with a slowly growing smile. "I'm not really sure why I'm thanking you but I am." 

He chuckled. "It's because of how much you are going to miss me." 

Now it was her turn to laugh. "I might." She grinned at his pout. "Alright, I'll miss you. Now let's finish making dinner." 

Paul nodded and went back to messing with the knobs on the stove. After a few minutes of silence he asked, "You will be coming back, right?" 

"Of course," she quickly assured. She was surprised he even asked. "There's nothing that could keep me from not coming back." 

"Are you sure? Jet and your grandparents are both in Paris now. And there's nothing keeping you here." 

She frowned and shook her head. She knew exactly what he was hinting at and hadn't exactly been prepared to say it yet. But if he needed to hear it right now then she might as well go ahead. "That's where you are wrong, Paul. I think you already know this but if you need me to say it out loud then I will. The one thing keeping me here is you. And as long as you stay here I'll keep coming back." 

A sigh of relief escaped Paul. "Thank you. I know that probably wasn't easy to admit, but thank you. I really needed to hear that." 

She nodded and looked away, suddenly struck with the urge to hug him. Today had taken a slightly emotional turn and it strangely felt like a big step. Like she was beginning to bare herself to him. It was a hard feeling to process but she wanted to keep going. After a moment of contemplation she decided to do just that. 

Lydia abandoned the vegetables and slowly made her way over to him, pausing only to turn off the stove, and wrapped her arms around him in a hug. He stiffened for moment in shock before relaxing and wrapping his arms around her. After he relaxed she did as well, sinking into the embrace and burying her face in his chest. They both sighed in relief. 

"This isn't weird, is it?" She asked, voice muffled by his chest but still understandable enough. 

"No. And you have my full permission to do this any time you want," Paul chuckled. He was positively ecstatic. Normally he was the one to initiate contact, even if it was just hand holding. But she finally did this time and he couldn't be happier. 

"That's good," she hummed. "Cause I don't think I wanna let go yet."

"Take all the time you need." 

After all, dinner could wait for a little while longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented on the last chapter! It means so much to me to know you are all enjoying this story. This one was a short but sweet chapter that I really enjoyed writing. And it's almost time to meet Jet! I'm so excited to finally be officially introducing her and her friendship with Lydia. Hopefully she lives up to any expectations you guys might have.


	9. Goodbye Surprises

"Are you sure you'll be alright?"

"I'll be fine," Lydia laughed into the phone. Her morning of packing was interrupted about an hour ago by a phone call from Jet. It had definitely slowed down her progress. "I've done this how many times before?" 

"I know. I just want everything to go alright." 

"Why are you so worried? Is there something I don't know about?" 

"No. It's nothing like that," Jet quickly assured. Maybe a little too quickly. "I want you here already. I want to spend as much time as I can with you. Mostly because I know your grandmother is going to steal you away from me as soon as she can." 

Lydia smiled at that. She'd been in Berlin for almost three months now and she'd be lying if she said she didn't miss her grandmother. Or her grandfather and Jet for that matter. But this place has been good to her so far. It brought her Paul. "I miss you guys." 

"Well good. Because you're going to spend time with us even if you didn't." 

"Gee, thanks Jet." 

"Of course," she laughed. "Well, I guess I'll leave you to your packing. Just make sure to text me before your plane leaves." 

Lydia nodded, "I will. I'll see you in a few hours." 

"Alright. Be careful." 

"Always."

The two hung up and Lydia turned back to her clothing covered bed with a sigh. At least she still had an hour before needing to leave for the airport. That should be plenty of time, right? She hoped so. Though she was half tempted to pack light. Even if she was only going for a week, Jet would still probably drag her on a couple of shopping trips and she'd need to fit all that in her suitcase. 

With a groan she slowly rose up from the floor. It had been a good idea and a fairly comfortable spot at first. But by now her back and knees hurt. She stared at the bed for a moment, drumming her nails against a pant clad thigh in contemplation. Deciding it was now far too quiet in the apartment, she strode into the living room to put on some music. After turning on some rock music Paul picked out for her on one of their more recent record store trips, she went back into her room to hopefully focus on packing. 

Thirty minutes later and more than a few checks to the weather apps on her phone, Lydia was finally done packing. She did end up packing light for the sake of shopping trips but went with warmer clothes. Supposedly it was going to be cold the whole week.

While going over her checklist a knock came from the front door. She quickly left her room and opened the door after the second knock. 

“Paul.”

“Hello,” he greeted with a warm smile. “I was hoping you hadn’t left yet.”

She checked her watch before responding, “Not for another fifteen minutes or so.”

He nodded. “I was hoping I could drive you to the airport.”

“Oh. You..you don’t have to do that. I don’t want to be a bother.”

“I’m offering. And I wanted more time with you before you have to leave.”

Lydia nodded slowly with a growing smile. “Okay. But only if you are sure. Um, would you like to come in?”

He hummed softly in conformation and slowly entered when she moved to the side. “How long are you going to be gone for?”

“Just a week,” she replied while following him to the couch. Unlike the previous times, they sat in the middle with very little space between them. If one of them shifted even the slightest bit they would be pressed against each other. 

A slow progress. 

“Any idea what you’ll be up to?” He asked. It was a poor attempt at conversation but he wasn’t quite sure what to say. At this point, Paul just wanted to be around her. 

She shrugged, “I’m not really sure yet. I know Jet and I will have one of our annual shopping trips but other than that? Who knows. I think I’m just happy to be visiting.”

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Mhmm. Almost three months.”

“It’s so strange,” Paul mused softly. “I feel like I’ve known you for so much longer than that.” Not even three months and he felt like he’d known her for years.

She nodded in agreement. “It is starting to feel that way.” While this wasn’t something Lydia felt all the time, it was hard to ignore when she did. The only other person she had that feeling with was Jet. And they’d been friends for years now. “Maybe we knew each other in a past life,” she joked. 

He laughed. “Now you sound like my fellow guitarist.”

“Richard, right?” at his nod she continued, “does he really believe in that kind of stuff?”

“He does, actually. And very strongly too. He once said that the minute he met his first wife he suddenly had the feeling they'd known each other for a thousand years. But those two haven’t been married in, oh,” he paused in thought before huffing and shaking his head, “I don’t even know. Long enough for him to have a few short and long lasting relationships. And a child in the process.”

“So a long time?” she teased.

“A long time,” he chuckled with a nod. He enjoyed it when she did that. 

Lydia opened her mouth to say something else but quickly closed it due to an alarm going off. She fished her phone out of her pocket and silenced it with a sigh. “Time to go.”

He frowned but nodded. “I’m ready to go when you are.”

“Okay. Just let me grab my bag and I’ll be all set.” She hesitantly rose from the couch and went to her room. Upon entry she stared at her bag for a moment in thought. Why was this suddenly so hard? Like a weight had settled deep in her chest? Was it because of Paul? Or more accurately, was it because she was leaving Paul? Even if that was the case it was only for a week. And it wasn’t like they hadn’t gone that long without seeing each other before. 

Trying to shake herself from those thoughts, she dragged her bag off her bed and went back into the living room to see Paul slouched forward on the couch, elbows on his knees and fingers playing over his lips. He looked exactly how she felt. “Ready to go?”

He sat up and flashed a weak smile. “Only if you are.”

“I think so.”

“Are you sure you have everything?”

“Unfortunately I do.”

Paul nodded and stood up with a groan, knees popping in protest of his movements. “After you.”

The pair were hesitant to leave the apartment and even more so the building. Despite being away from each other for days and the occasional week at a time due to Paul practically living in the studio some days, this still felt weird. Perhaps because Lydia was the one doing the leaving this time. Either way, the excitement of the trip was starting to wear off. 

Thankfully these feelings were momentarily forgotten and gave way to surprise when Lydia saw the car Paul was taking her to the airport in. While it wasn’t anything fancy like a sports car, it was still big and slightly suspiciously looking with it’s blacked out windows. 

“I didn’t know you had a car,” she confessed with a slight laugh. They always walked or got a cab. 

“Oh I don’t. It’s a company car,” he snickered. 

“Paul!”

“What? I needed it for the day.”

“You didn’t need to make such a big deal out of it,” Lydia groaned. “I would of been fine with just taking a cab.”

He shrugged and loaded her bag into the back seat. “I rarely get the car and today was a good excuse to have it.” He frowned and turned back to her. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I just thought it would be a nice change.”

“I’m not upset by it. I just don’t want to cause you any trouble” she confessed quietly. 

“It really wasn’t any trouble,” Paul was quick to assure. “It’s a benefit just about everyone in the record company has. Most people use them every day. And I promise you it won’t get me in trouble.”

After a few moments, she relented. “Okay.”

He grinned, “Alright, let’s go.”

They finally climbed into the large vehicle and left for the airport. It was a silent but not uncomfortable ride. They simply had nothing left to say except for goodbyes and that could wait until they reached their destination. For now they were content to just enjoy each other's company. No matter how short lived. 

Deciding to take this moment for what it was, Lydia not so subtiley began looking and then staring at Paul. His hair seemed to have more grey in it lately, especially around the back and sides where it had recently been shaved. She distantly wondered if it would be dyed by the time she came back. He had silver earrings in and a blue scarf that seemed to match his eyes today. And despite the fact he'd definitely shaved since the last time she saw him a couple of days ago, he was beginning to look rather scruffy. But she liked it. She also liked the way his lips were twitching up into a smile the longer she looked at him. 

"Hmm?" 

"Nothing," she murmured. "I'm just going to miss you." 

"I'm going to miss you too," he said in a voice just as soft as hers. He feared he would ruin the moment if spoke any louder than that. "But it's only a week, right?" 

"Right," Lydia agreed. "But it is strange that a week feels too long?" 

"No. Because I feel it too." 

They fell back into silence after that and didn't speak again until Paul pulled into the airport. And even then they sat there for a little while, neither wanting to break the spell of comfort that had fallen over them. But unfortunately they had to. 

This time it was Paul who spoke up. "Could you text me when you land? It would put my mind at ease." 

"Of course. Maybe I could tell you about my day too?" She nervously asked. 

"Please," he nodded. "I would like that very much." 

Lydia nodded and bit her lip for a moment before asking, "Can I hug you before I go?" 

Paul immediately reached across the console and pulled her into a slightly awkward but firm hug. "I'm going to miss you so much," he whispered. 

"I'm going to miss you too. But it's only a week. We can last that long, right?" 

"Right."

"I mean, it's not like we haven't done it before." As they pulled away, she paused to kiss his cheek. "So maybe it will be over before we know it and I'll be boarding a plane again. And I'll probably end up texting you all the time to…." she trailed off as her mind finally caught up with her actions. She slowly turned away from the door and back to Paul.

He was staring at her with wide eyes and a slacken jaw. While it was a simple gesture to most, it wasn't to them. This was the first time she had done such a thing. And he almost couldn't believe it. After a moment or two he finally regained the ability to speak. "You are welcome to do that any time you want to as well." 

Lydia blushed and giggled a little in surprise. Well that was a better response than she hoped. "I'm um, going to go now." 

"Okay." 

She nodded and exited the car. She stood there for a second, suddenly feeling a bit giddy, before opening the door to the back seat and pulled out her bag. 

"Lydia?" 

"Yeah?" 

Paul cleared his throat, "When you get back, would you like to have dinner together? I...I would like to cook something for you this time."

"Okay," she murmured shyly. "I'd like that." 

"Okay. Good. Um, okay." He awkwardly cleared his throat again. "I'll see you in a week." 

"I'll see you then," Lydia agreed before shutting the car door and walking into the airport.

"Fuck," Paul whispered to the steering wheel, "what am I going to make for dinner?" 

Throughout her wait and then the plane ride, Lydia continued to think about what happened. Something as simple as a kiss on the cheek felt more life changing than her marriage. It was such a crazy thought but it felt right. Like they'd somehow made a natural progression towards that point in their friendship. 

This was definitely something she needed to talk to Jet about.

After arriving back at the apartment building, Paul decided to go through his cabinets to try and figure out what to make for dinner. If not he could always call Richard. Maybe even Christoph or Oliver. Someone who wouldn't relentlessly tease him over this. But, then again, they all probably would for a little while. 

So what if he was planning ahead? A week goes by fast and he didn't want to spend all that time panicking. 

Those thoughts, however, were momentarily put on hold when the elevator doors parted and he stepped out onto his floor. A man was standing in front of Lydia's apartment. A very tall man with short blonde hair and dark beady looking eyes. Unfortunately he was also very handsome. Like he could of been a famous actor if he tried. 

"May I help you?" Paul asked when he was close enough. 

The man turned and smiled in a way that was incredibly fake but he probably thought was charming. "Hello. I'm looking for my wife, Lydia." 

Oh no. His eyes immediately narrowed and any attempt at being civil was gone. "If you are looking for her then she probably doesn't want to be found." 

Alexander sighed and shook his head. "I don't expect someone like you to understand this or what we are going through. But it is very important that I find my wife. Now, does a Lydia Dupont live on this floor or not?"

"I have never met anyone with that last name before in my life," Paul stated. "And I don't think I would want to if you are anything to go by." 

He scoffed and shook his head. "Look, if you happen to see her, tell her that her husband is looking for her." 

"If I meet a Lydia with that horrible last name, I will." Because he knew those two were not legally married. This guy has to be up to something, Paul decided. 

"Thanks," Alexander sarcastically muttered before brushing past him and walking to the elevator. 

As soon as it was clear, Paul hurried into his own apartment and took out his phone and dialed. "Hey, Flake. Do you still have that lawyer friend?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for all your comments! And thank you to those that have been patiently waiting on this chapter today. I assured you it would be posted and here it is. A little later on in the night than I wanted but it's still here. I kept adding and messing with things to try and get it exactly how I wanted it. Hopefully you all like it just as much as I do.


	10. Flight Path

"I'm so happy you're here!" Jet squealed as she unlocked her apartment. 

Lydia shook her head with a grin. Such a noise coming from her best friend was extremely rare and always unexpected when it actually happened. "Does your boyfriend know your a squealer?" 

"Oh hush," Jet laughed with a growing blush. It was nice to have her best friend back. "Speaking of boyfriends, you said you had something to tell me. Are you two finally together?" 

"No. We haven't moved quite that far," she admitted a bit sheepishly. They walked to the guest room, that was basically Lydia's permanent bedroom at this point, as she continued talking, "But I still feel like I need your advice. Before I left, I gave him a kiss on the cheek and we agreed on having dinner when I get back. He wants to cook for me."

"So what do you need my advice for?" Jet asked while watching the other woman plop down on the bed. "It sounds like you're moving at your own pace."

"We are. And everything is feeling so natural with him but I….I don't know. I feel like I'm going to mess this up somehow. What if the pace we're moving at is too slow and he gets bored? I mean, this man is a world famous musician for crying out loud! He could have anyone regardless of age." 

"And yet it seems like he wants you. Look, I had similar worries with my guy. But we've talked a lot and I'm really not worried about that anymore. I know this kind of stuff tends to be hard for you, but have you two sat down and really talked about how you feel?"

"No," Lydia admitted in a whisper. "The only time we really talked about that kind of stuff was almost two months ago when he told me who he was. We've just been kind of...letting things progress since then." 

The French native nodded and walked over to the bed, plopping down with a grunt and laying down beside her friend. "While it's good that you two are letting things happen naturally, I think it would be a good idea to talk things out. You are having these feelings that," she paused and turned her head, "you are having feelings, right?" 

"Yes," she chuckled, turning to look at her as well. "I've never felt anything like this before. Sometimes it's so overwhelming that I get flustered and I feel like I can't even speak. He makes me feel so many things, Jet." 

"And these are good feelings, right?" 

"I think so. The nerves and stuff I could do without. I want to be more confident around him, ya know?"

"But everything else has been good?" 

"Yeah, I think so." 

Jet nodded and hummed softly in thought. While they'd briefly touched on this subject before, she wasn't entirely sure Lydia would want to hear what she was about to say, but she felt her friend needed to hear it. "I think you're falling in love, honey. And I know you probably don't want to think about that so soon, but I really think that's what's happening. Yeah, all I have to base this on is what you've told me, but that's my conclusion. You are falling in love with Paul." 

Lydia frowned and went back to staring at the ceiling. Was it love? She wasn't entirely sure as she'd never felt it in that capacity before. But Jet had a few times, so she should know what the feeling was like. But wasn't it too soon for that? They hadn't even known each other for three months yet. "How do I know for sure?" 

"You'll know. One day you will wake up and realize the person next to you is all you want." 

"Is that how you knew you were in love with your current boyfriend?" 

"Pretty much, yeah. And don't change the subject to me and my relationship. We're trying to figure out yours." 

"I know," Lydia sighed. "Maybe I should just take this week to think about things. Maybe some time away will clear my head." 

"That's the spirit! Now, how does dinner at your favorite restaurant sound?” 

A little time away from everything wouldn’t hurt at all. 

The two went to dinner and made a quick grocery shopping run afterwards. Neither felt like eating out all week. True, it’s what most people tend to do when on vacation or visiting loved ones but it seemed like too much of a hassle. Besides, spending a few evenings cooped up in the apartment seemed like a good idea to Lydia. The goal was to spend time together, after all. 

After arriving back at Jet’s apartment, they settled down with a stack of movies, popcorn and other assorted candies and treats. They talked more than watched the movie but that was okay. It had been far too long since they’d been able to do this and there was no telling how long it would be before they could do it again, so they found no harm in just enjoying themselves. 

“Since you got to interrogate me about whatever it is that’s going on with Paul and myself, I think it’s only right you let me do the same with you," Lydia said after settling back down on the couch, having just put another movie in. 

Jet groaned dramatically. “What do you want to know?”

“Are you ever going to tell me his name or what he does besides being a musician?” She laughed. “What about the fact you don’t have pictures everywhere of this supposedly gorgeous man?”

More laughter ensured. “Well his name is Richard, he’s a guitarist and occasional singer and I don’t have pictures plastered all over my walls because he isn’t completely comfortable with that yet. He likes his privacy and I respect that.”

“That’s understandable but still. You’re putting them up in your house, not all over social media.”

She shrugged. “I think part of it has to do with the pace we’re moving at. Much like you and your darling Paul, we’re going at a slower pace than most. Though we’ve definitely surpassed you two in just about everything despite that.” A pointed glare made her laugh. “You’re my best friend. I’m supposed to tease you. But really, I don’t think we’re quite at that point in our lives yet. But the day I start plastering pictures everywhere, you’ll be the first to know.”

Lydia rolled her eyes good naturedly at her teasing but nodded. “I just feel weird. I don’t even know what this guy looks like.”

“You will eventually. I want you two to meet at some point. We’re all just way too busy right now. That and I wanna wait a little longer.”

“I think it’s a good thing you two are going at a slower pace. It’ll be good for you in the long run.”

Jet shrugged as she said, “We’ve both been burned pretty badly before. Especially him, being a musician and all.”

“And you like him,” Lydia teased with a grin. 

“And I like him,” She agreed with a laugh. “I like him a lot, actually. He constantly gives me butterflies and I swear he makes my toes curl every time we kiss."

“That's a bit more information than I need to know," she grimaced, "but I'm glad you found someone that makes you happy.”

“Me too. And I’m happy you found someone that’s making you feel the same. No matter what pace you go at, you deserve happiness. You’ve been through far too much in this life not to finally have it.”

“Thank you,” Lydia whispered, quickly wiping away the gathering tears. “Sometimes I don’t feel like it’s real. I’m terrified to get that close to Paul and let him in completely because I feel like one day I’m going to wake up and I’ll still be in that house with Alexander.”

“Oh sweetheart,” Jet breathed. She had her suspicions her friend felt this way but always hoped it wasn’t true. She carefully wrapped her arms around her in a hug and held her close as she began to shake. “I promise you, no, I swear to you that this is not a dream. You are not back in that house, you are not married to that horrible man and you never will be. And if I have it my way, you’ll never have to deal with him again.”

“I hope you’re right because I want to move on. And I want to do that with Paul. I want to forget about Alexander and everything he put me through and I want to start a life with Paul. I want it so much it scares me,” she confessed through her tears. “But I’m scared it’s not possible. I don’t want it all to be a dream.”

“My darling girl, you are so loved. Your grandparents, myself, and I’m willing to bet Paul does too. We all love you. And I swear this is not a dream. A dream come true, maybe. But never one you have to be afraid you’ll wake up from. I guarantee that. And as long as you don’t push yourself, I think you will have a life with Paul. Because he really does seem to care about you. But I want you to promise me something, okay? Don’t rush things. The pace you two are going is just fine. There’s no reason to change things. And when you get back to Germany, talk to him. Tell him what you are thinking and feeling. Communication is the key to everything, including relationships. No matter how fast or slow they are going. Can you promise me that?”

After taking a moment to think and attempt to finally stop crying, Lydia nodded. “I promise. And thank you. I didn’t mean to ruin our evening.”

“You didn’t,” Jet promised. “I think that was something you needed to get out and talk about freely.”

“I think you’re right. I do feel better now.” Maybe talking things out and having a good cry was exactly what she needed. 

“Good. Now, how do you feel about watching another movie and starting over fresh tomorrow?”

“That sounds perfect.”

“Good. Because you’re here for a week so we’ll have to start over sometime.”

Delightfully blessed laughter ensured.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we have Jet! While this chapter did take a bit of a sad turn towards the end, hopefully it wasn't disappointing. It's not exactly how I intended to write it but I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. Thank you so much to everyone who commented on the last chapter! I hope you like this one as well.


	11. Breakfast Takeaway

“There’s my beautiful girl.”

Lydia didn’t bother fighting the smile that immediately appeared. “Hello Grandmother.”

The older woman smiled and pulled her into a gentle hug. After pulling away she slowly looked her over and nodded approvingly. While carefully brushing a lock of hair behind Lydia’s ear, she spoke, “Perhaps you are no longer a girl but a beautiful young woman.”

“How are you and Grandfather?”

“We are just fine. How are you feeling? Have you been eating enough?

“I’m fine,” Lydia chuckled as they sat down at the table. It appeared it would be just the two of them for breakfast. “Where is Grandfather?”

“Out. He had some business to take care of and sends his regards. He should be available another time,” Grandmother explained. “And where is Jet? I thought she would be joining us as well.”

“An emergency at the gallery. She said it would be a couple of hours.”

“Then I hope it will resolve itself quickly. As you can see, I have already ordered breakfast and coffee for you. It’s your favorite.”

Lydia nodded while staring at her plate. It was indeed her favorite. She took a moment to take a sip of coffee before asking, “Any plans for today?”

“Other than questioning you as to why you didn’t tell me you were in a relationship? No,” she spoke in a sweet tone with just enough sarcasm to it that it didn’t appear rude or angry. This was her favorite grandchild, after all.

The younger blinked slowly and put down the fork full of food that had been halfway to her mouth. “I told you about Paul.”

“No. You told me you had made a friend,” her Grandmother corrected. “Not that you had begun a relationship with him. That I had to learn from Jet. Thankfully she was too excited to not talk about it.”

She winced. Well this wasn’t good. “It’s not that I deliberately kept this from you, I just didn’t know what to say. Paul and I are friends. Truthfully I don’t know what we are beyond that. We’re going at such a slow pace that I’m not even sure what we have could be considered a relationship at this point.”

“But you want it to be.”

“Maybe? I don’t know.”

Grandmother reached across the table to take her hand in her own and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I want you to know that I did not bring this up because I’m angry. But rather disappointed and a bit upset. I want to know about these things, my dear. No matter how silly or frivolous they may seem at the time. Just because you do not live close by anymore does not mean I don’t want to know everything. You are my granddaughter. I want to be in your life as much as I can be.”

Biting at her lip, Lydia nodded slowly. The last thing she wanted was to disappoint or upset the other woman. Truthfully she didn’t mean to hide anything. She was still figuring things out, after all. Hopefully the talk she planned on having with Paul when she got home would clear things up a bit. “Like I said, Paul and I are moving at a slow pace. Our own pace, really. He’s been really sweet and understanding and respectful.” She shrugged and looked back down at her plate, “He’s wonderful.”

She smiled as she watched her granddaughter light up while talking about this man. While she was clearly hesitant and unsure, there was no denying her feelings for him. For they showed far too clearly on her face. Even if they weren’t in any hurry, she was still incredibly happy for her. After that mess of a marriage to Alexander, her granddaughter deserved happiness. She always has. “What does this young man do for a living?”

Oh no. She was hoping that wouldn’t come up. No matter how unlikely it was. “He um...he’s a musician. A very successful one though.”

Grandmother hummed and nodded. She took a sip of her tea before asking, “No one I have heard of, I take it?”

“No. It’s a form of German rock called Neue Deutsche Härte. Though they are mostly put in the various genres of metal.”

“And what does he do in this very successful German band?”

“He plays guitar.”

“Ah,” Grandmother chuckled. “A guitarist. They have very talented fingers, you know.”

“Grandmother!” Lydia sputtered, quickly whipping around in her seat to make sure no one heard. Thankfully it didn’t appear so. It was extremely rare and always surprising when the older of the two said something dirty or vulgar in nature. She normally liked to keep an air of etiquette, class and sophistication. In other words, she vividly remembered all those charm and beauty school classes. At least she was taking the news well, Lydia supposed. 

“Oh don’t fuss, my dear. I have lived a very long and interesting life. Just because I settled down after meeting your Grandfather doesn’t mean I did not have fun. Besides, I spend most of my time with Jet now. What did you expect?” So she was a little more than delighted at her granddaughter’s reaction. 

She shook her head and began eating. She most definitely was not going to respond to that. Thankfully nothing else was said and they consumed their breakfast in relative peace. There was no reason to let their food get cold, after all. It wasn’t until all the food was finished and they were on their second cup of tea and coffee respectively did the conversation pick back up. And it wasn’t exactly for the better.

“I know Jet has taken an older lover. How old is your,” Grandmother fumbled for a moment trying to find the right word, “um, Paul?” Well, they weren’t exactly labeled anyway. 

Lydia badly masked a flinch. Now that was not something she wanted to answer. All she could utter was an “Um” before quickly taking a drink of her coffee in order to avoid saying anything else. It didn’t really work. 

She slowly raised a delicate looking eyebrow. “Lydia. How much older than you is he?”

“A bit,” she whispered after a few minutes. 

“And how much, pray tell, is a bit?”

Oh dear. Oh dear, oh dear. “It’s um, close to how old Jet’s boyfriend is.” It was admittedly kind of funny how she knew of the age gap between the two before learning his name. 

“How close?”

“A couple of years. Older.”

“Lydia Stillwell!”

There was no hiding that flinch either. The older woman tried to always make it a point not to snap at her but occasionally she couldn’t restrain herself. “I’m sorry.”

Her Grandmother took a deep steadying breath that didn’t exactly do much. She had not expected that answer. Not in the slightest. She practically interrogated Jet when she found out the age difference between her and her own boyfriend. Now it seemed she would have to repeat the process. Those blasted musicians! 

“What were you thinking? That man is far too old for you. Is he pressuring you into something? Has he been behaving inappropriately? Because if he is, you do not need to deal with such nonsense! I do not care if you have to move back here to get away from him. In fact, I would prefer it. Why would you even pursue a relationship with such a man? Is he trying to take advantage of you? If he hurting you? Are all musicians this way?”

Lydia frowned and attempted to keep up with all her questions and comments but found it more difficult with each word. She didn’t like what was being said and insinuated about Paul but she couldn’t seem to find her voice. It was like she was suddenly mute. By the end of the rant she was staring at her plate, shoulders hunched in and tears gathering in her eyes.

By the time the other woman realized the damage she was causing, it was too late. Her darling granddaughter was hunched over in tears and people were beginning to stare. “Oh Lydia,” she sighed. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I am only worried about you. You have suffered so much already that I do not want anyone to continue to contribute to it further.”

She nodded and carefully dabbed at her eyes, years of experience and etiquette classes playing in her head to not smear her makeup. After taking a few minutes to calm down and a few sips of coffee in hopes of soothing her now incredibly dry throat, she finally found her voice. “Paul,” she croaked, “has been nothing but a gentleman since the day we met almost three months ago. He has pushed nothing on me and has caused no harm. Any contact besides holding my hand has been initiated by me. He respects my boundaries, Grandmother. And as for a relationship?” She shook her head, sorrow filling her soul. “There is nothing but friendship between us until I decide otherwise. That has been established for a while now.”

Grandmother took a deep breath and slowly sat back in her chair, not having realized she moved forward during her questioning and was practically leaning over the table. “I’m sorry. I worry for you, deeply so. You have been through so much in this life. More than you should have at the hands of your mother.”

“And whose fault was that?”

“Do not start with me young lady!”

Another flinch.

Grandmother sighed and said, “I raised her to the best of my abilities. You know this. After I realized how she was acting I tried fixing things but it was too late. If I could not fix things with my own daughter then I was going to help my granddaughter. Unfortunately I could not prevent everything and I am sorry for that. It’s one of the reasons I never let them join you on summer holiday. But life with your mother is not the point I’m trying to make here.”

Lydia bit her tongue hard enough to make her eyes water. As much as she loved her Grandmother, she always hated how she never truly owned up to her own faults as a parent. She would make comments here and there, such as that one, but she never really tried to make up for it. No matter what she randomly decided to claim. 

“I care about you very much, Lydia. And I do not want you to end up with another Alexander. Especially one so much older than yourself,” she stressed. 

“I assure you, Paul is nothing like Alexander. There would be absolutely nothing between us if he was.” A few random and normally small arguments did not equal being screamed at, degraded, and being slapped for so much as speaking. “He has proven to be nothing but a gentleman, something Alexander never was.”

“But what if-”

“If anything happens, you and Jet will be immediately notified and I will be on a plane here,” Lydia interrupted. “The power imbalance you are envisioning between us is not even close to what it really is. I will not deny that one exists because it does. But I enjoy it. He gives me butterflies and makes me blush. He makes me nervous and giddy all at once. Paul makes me feel things I have never felt before, Grandmother, and I enjoy it. He makes me feel safe. Do you have any idea how special that is to me? No, I don’t imagine you do.” She slowly rose from her seat and held up her hand when the other woman went to stand up as well, “I am going back to the apartment to wait for Jet. If you would like to have dinner together then you may call us later. But right now I would like some peace.”

“I worry about you.”

“I know you do. And I appreciate that. But you have no right to talk about him like that. You don’t even know him.”

Before so much as another word could be spoken, Lydia left the restaurant and went back to Jet’s apartment. She immediately curled up in bed hoping to fall back asleep and forget today even happened but she was wide awake. It seemed the argument with her Grandmother wound her up too much. No matter how emotionally draining it was. So she did the one thing that had been on her mind since arriving in Paris. She called Paul. 

It only took a few seconds for him to pick up. “Hi.”

“Lydia? What are you doing calling me, sweetheart? Shouldn’t you be out having fun?”

“Sweetheart?” She chuckled, “That’s new."

Paul chuckled and said with a bit of embarrassment, “It sounded better in my head. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” She murmured.”I like the idea of you having a nickname for me.”

“You sound sad. What’s wrong?” He asked. 

“I had breakfast with Grandmother.”

“Oh?”

“We talked about you. It didn’t go so well.”

“Oh,” He whispered, not bothering to mask the disappointment from his voice. “What happened?”

“Are you sure you wanna know?” Lydia asked. “It’s really not that great. She kind of went overboard.”

Paul nodded and then murmured, “yeah” when he remembered she couldn’t see him. “I wanna know.”

“She didn’t like the age difference. And wanted to make sure you weren’t trying to take advantage of me. Or hurt me,” She sighed. It hurt to say those words out loud. Because they weren’t true and she knew it. 

“Oh Lydia,” he breathed “I wouldn't. I would never do anything like that to you, I swear. You mean so much to me. I couldn't. I don't, I can't, I'd never," he couldn't even get the right words out to properly express just how wrong that was. 

“I know,” she quickly reassured. “I told her that you weren’t like that. I don’t think you could ever do such a thing. To me or anyone else.” After a moment of hesitancy and blushing she continued, “You mean a lot to me too.”

Her confession made Paul smile despite the situation. While he hated what was being said about him, he was happy she didn’t think it was true. Because he couldn't ever take advantage of her. It wasn't in his nature to behave that way. No matter what her Grandmother apparently thought. "Maybe I shouldn't meet your grandmother." 

"She's not too bad," Lydia tried to say convincingly. "She just, well she gets really protective and that doesn't always turn out to be a good thing. It kind of shows where my mom gets all of her, erm, personality from." 

It hurt more than it should that this woman he'd never met probably hated him. He supposed he cared because she meant so much to Lydia. "Think you can change her mind?" 

"Do you care if I don't?" She chuckled. "She's pretty stubborn." Truthfully she was surprised he cared that much about what Grandmother thought. The chances of those two actually meeting were slim. 

"I don't know. But, she means a lot to you, right?"

"She does." 

"I'm not sure I want her to hate me then." 

Lydia smiled softly down at her comforter. He didn't have to care, but he did. And she appreciated it. As much as she loved her grandmother, though, sometimes she reminded her far too much of her own mother. And it made sense, sure. But it still hurt no matter what was said. "Well, I'll probably have dinner with her tonight. If not some time this week. I can try and talk you up a bit." 

"That'd be nice," he hummed. "Besides what happened at breakfast, are you having a good time?" 

"It hasn't been too bad," she said with a growing smile. "We went to dinner and spent the rest of the night watching movies and talking. Jet, she uh, she helped me sort through a lot." 

Paul frowned. "Are you okay? Do...do I need to come get you?" 

"Oh, oh no. I'm okay," she quickly reassured. "I just had a lot on my mind and I needed help sorting through my thoughts and feelings. Sometimes everything gets jumbled and I need Jet's help with it. We've been doing this for...oh I don't know how long. She thinks it has to do with me not being able to feel and experience things properly growing up." 

He sighed in relief before some anxiety began to kick in. Were the feelings she had to sort through about him? "Did uh, did it help? Sorting through everything, I mean." 

"It did. There are some things I want to talk to you about when I get back. It's nothing bad, I promise. Just me figuring things out, I guess." And while she admittedly still has some things to work through, today made her realize a lot. Couple that with her talk with Jet last night? Her mind was all but made up. There were just a few things, details really, that she needed to think over. 

"That's good," he said. Despite sounding confident, he was worried. Did she still want to be friends? Did she not want to be around him anymore? Was she moving back to Paris? All those thoughts and more had anxiety twisting in his gut. 

"Paul?" 

"Hmm?" 

"I'm really looking forward to dinner," she confessed, a smile on her face that most definitely could be called dreamy. 

"I am too, sweetheart," he breathed. "I am too." Even if it was causing some anxiety and distress on his part. He didn't want to feel that way, of course, but he couldn't help it. His mind kept playing every bad scenario that it could think of. And there were a lot of them. "Is there anything special you want to eat?" 

"No," she chuckled. "I like the idea of you surprising me." 

"A surprise it is." A commotion that could be heard through the phone made him groan. "I'm going to have to go, Lydia. We have to start recording." 

"That's alright. I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?" 

"That sounds good. Try not to let your Grandmother get to you, okay?" 

"Okay." 

They ended the call at that and Lydia laid back down with a sigh. Today did not go according to plan. Well, as close to a plan as they actually had. All she really wanted was to sit down with her family. And that began to fall apart halfway through getting ready that morning when Jet got a call from the gallery. She should of just went back to bed and rescheduled with Grandmother. Though it was probably foolish to think that would have prevented today's conversation. It only would have delayed it for a little while. And at least the restaurant wasn’t packed for breakfast like it probably would have been at dinner. What little bit of a crowd there was, was enough of an audience for her. 

Heaving a sigh and deciding not to think anymore about it for now, Lydia curled up under the blankets and, thankfully, fell asleep quickly. 

A few hours later, Jet arrived at the apartment. After the phone call she received earlier, she was more than a little worried for her friend. But a quick browse around the apartment and then a peak in the guest room settled her worries somewhat. Her friend was sleeping peacefully for once and despite how much she wanted to check on her, letting her sleep a while longer was a much better idea. 

So she spent the next two hours making phone calls and doing paperwork that was starting to pile up. After being sure everything was finished, she made tea, put it in one of Lydia's favorite cups and went to wake her up. Because who didn't like tea after a nap? 

Jet easily slipped into the room, sat the tea cup on the bedside table, settled down onto the bed and began repeatedly poking her friends shoulder. "Lydia. Wake up." A few more pokes and she began to stir.

Lydia groaned into wakefulness and buried her face in the pillow in an attempt to fall back under. The poking of her shoulder, however, did not stop. In fact, it became more insistent. With another groan she lifted her head up and cast a glance over her shoulder to see who was bothering her. “Oh. Hi.”

“Hello darling,” Jet laughed. “I brought tea.”

She hummed softly in acknowledgement before sitting up and running her hands through her hair. She then settled herself against the headboard and held out her hands. After getting the tea cup and taking a few sips, she asked, “How long was I out?”

Jet shrugged. “A few hours I’m guessing. I've been home for two of them.”

“Did Grandmother call you?”

“Yeah. I’d just gotten out of a meeting when she did. Do you want to talk about it?”

Lydia shrugged. She felt like she already got most of it out. “I called Paul after I got here and talked with him a little bit. That helped some. I guess she was just being overprotective but the things she said about him…..”

“Let me guess, it was something along the lines of him taking advantage of you and causing you general harm because of the age difference?” Jet asked. 

She nodded. “Pretty much.”

“She did the same thing when I told her about me and Richard. I didn’t talk to her for three days,” she admitted with a sigh. “I was so angry at her for it. And yeah, I can understand her being protective but she definitely went too far.”

“Makes me think of my mother when she’s like that.”

“Which makes sense.”

“It does,” Lydia agreed. “Doesn’t mean I like it any less though.” She gulped down what was left of her tea while the French native watched on in amusement.

“Like the cup?” Jet asked, smirking as she spoke.

She raised a brow and looked down into the bottom of the cup and snickered. In tiny cursive scrawl were the words ‘you’ve been poisoned’. It was one of her favorites. “I love your tea cups.” She had quite a few cups and some matching saucers with various curse words and vulgar phrases either on or in them. They were absolutely hysterical. 

“I know,” she chuckled. 

“So, did Grandmother talk to you about dinner when she called?”

“She did. Said to meet them at one of those fancy restaurants your Grandfather likes so much if you felt up to it.”

Lydia nodded and after a few minutes of silence asked, “Should we?”

“That’s completely up to you,” Jet said. “If you feel like talking to her so soon then I’ll call her back and we’ll start getting ready. If not,” she shrugged, “We cook dinner and watch movies.”

While the latter suggestion sounded wonderful, part of her wanted to hurry up and get all the apologizing over with. That and she really wanted to see her Grandfather. “If you don’t mind, let’s go ahead and have dinner with them. If worse comes to worse we can just come back here.”

“Fine by me.” She stood up and stretched, giving a satisfied sigh at a particularly loud popping noise. “I’ll call her and let her know.”

“Thank you, Jet. For everything.”

“You’re welcoming, darling.”

And so they began the rest of their night by getting ready for dinner. With Grandfather’s preference for very fancy restaurants in mind, they donned beautiful dresses and elegantly done makeup. It had been quite a long time since either had dressed in such a way. It was kind of nice. 

They met up sometime later at the restaurant. 

“It’s so good to see you,” Grandfather said while pulling Lydia into a hug. “Please forgive me for missing breakfast,” he paused to lower his voice to a whisper, “don’t be so hard on her. I gave her a firm talking to after I found out what happened.”

“I missed you too,” Lydia said before giving a small nod to indicate she heard and understood him. 

He was quick to move on to greeting Jet after that so his wife and granddaughter could speak. 

“I would like to apologize,” Grandmother said after the other two were distracted. “I just want to protect you.”

“I know,” Lydia said. “And I appreciate that very much. But whatever it is I have with Paul, I don’t think it’s something you need to worry over. I mean, if Jet isn’t worried, shouldn’t that be a sign that you don’t have to be?”

The elder frowned and looked away for a moment. “I suppose you have a point. But I will always worry over you. You are my grandchild, after all. Perhaps though, it would be better if I kept certain opinions to myself?”

“For now I think that would be a good idea,” she agreed. 

“Alright.”

“Come on you two. It’s starting to get cold out here and we want to eat,” Jet called over with a slight laugh. Though it didn’t do much to mask her concern. The two quickly walked over and as soon as they were close enough she asked, “Everything okay?”

“I think so,” Lydia murmured as they entered the restaurant. “She apologized and agreed to keep certain opinions to herself.”

“Well that’s more than I expected,” she confessed.

“I figured she’d cave,” she murmured, “Just not that quickly.”

“Think he talked to her about it?” 

“Oh I know he did. Grandfather is the only person that can get through to her even when no one else can.”

“Fair point.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super long chapter! According to Google Docs it's eleven pages long and most definitely the longest chapter I've written for this story so far. Hopefully it makes up for not updating last week. I was very busy and just didn't have time to really sit down and write. Thankfully though I was able to finish this one and go straight into the next chapter so there will be an update next Monday as well. Thank you to everyone who commented on the last chapter! I really do appreciate each and every one of you. Hopefully this chapter doesn't disappoint.


	12. Last Rebellion

"And what are you so happy about this morning?" Jet asked with a laugh, handing her friend one of her vulgar teacups that was ironically filled with coffee. 

"I had a dream about Paul," Lydia admitted while accepting the cup. "A really good dream." 

If she'd still been holding the cup, she would have dropped it in shock. "You had a sex dream about Paul?" A timid nod confirmed it. No wonder she'd been so delightfully cheery without her coffee. "Well tell me about it!" 

Lydia blushed while watching her friend happily plop down in the chair across from her. "Why? It's not like we actually had sex." 

"No you haven't. But it's nice to know you plan on telling me when you do. Now spill on this lovely dream." 

"We did...things. And they were nice." 

She snickered. "Of course it was nice." Deciding to take a different approach, she asked, "have you ever dreamt about him before?" 

"Once." It was after they'd talked about who he was and she could still feel his touch on her hands. She'd felt incredibly dirty and terrible afterwards. Because those sorts of dreams were few and far between for her. It was just strange. 

"And was it a good dream as well?" 

"It was." 

"Well," Jet chuckled, "at least dream you is having a good time." 

"Oh hush," Lydia squeaked, turning an even brighter red than before. While her friend snickered she took a few sips of her coffee in hopes of calming down. After her blush went away and her coffee was halfway gone, she felt confident enough to murmur, "it felt real. Like he would of been there with me when I woke up." 

She smiled gently at that, the humour she'd found in the situation now out of her system. "I have that feeling all the time too. With a musician in your life you'll kind of get used to it. So, what do you think brought this dream on?" 

"Missing him, I guess. That and I spent a small chunk of last night watching music videos, interviews and really whatever I could on him." Another blush accompanied her admittance.

"You really are missing him," Jet mused. 

"I know! And it hasn't even been a full week yet," she whined . "We've gone longer without seeing each other." 

"While that's true, he was in the studio at the time. Not in a different country. I think it makes perfect sense. You two are just really starting to get together and leaving in the middle of it is making you go crazy." 

"Crazy might be a stretch but I get your point." 

"So, did you find anything good last night?" Jet asked. 

"I did," she blushed. "He looks wonderful now but he was such a baby face when he was younger! And yeah, he still doesn't quite look his age but," she shook her head and turned an even deeper shade of red as she spoke, "This is going to sound more like something you'd say than me, but young Paul would have had me on my knees in seconds." 

Her friend burst out laughing at her confession. Now that was not something she expected to ever hear from Lydia. It took her a few minutes to calm down enough to speak, "you're right! That is something I would say." 

"And don't get me wrong, Paul now is still incredibly attractive. I don't think I'd be having such dreams if I didn't find him to be. But my goodness," Lydia gasped, laughing slightly at the end. 

"A charmer, huh?" 

"Very much so! And he still is. Especially when he smiles. Though it is nice to know that he's always had such a high hairline." 

Jet snickered. It was nice seeing her friend gush over a guy for once. Normally she was the one going on and on about a guy. "You are so adorable." 

"Oh hush." Lydia rolled her eyes good naturedly and finished her coffee. "And I chose to ignore the cup you gave me." 

She laughed again. "But for once I can say it's accurate." The teacup she'd given her this morning had the word "slut" across it in fancy looking script. 

"I have one dream!" She groaned. 

"You had two actually." 

"Jet!" 

More laughter, this time bordering on hysterical. "If young Paul could of had you on your knees, what can the old man get you to do now?" 

"Oh my God!" Lydia shrieked. She was more surprised, and slightly amused, than offended. "I'm so done talking to you now. I'm going to shower and when I get out we are starting this day over!" 

"You love me!" Jet choked out through her laughter. It was amazing she hadn't fallen out of her chair yet. 

She would later apologise, all would be forgiven because it was done in good fun, they would indeed restart their day with an actual breakfast and more coffee, and then begin a very long shopping trip. Though Lydia would spend the rest of the day randomly wondering exactly what Paul could make her do. 

Absence makes the heart grow fonder, indeed. 

After the shopping trip and a late lunch the girls went back to the apartment to relax, watch more movies and just get off their feet for a while. This led to a nap and a phone call with Paul a little bit later. Thankfully Jet was nice enough to leave them alone during it. She’d teased Lydia enough for one day. At least on a bigger scale. Afterwards they decided to go out for dinner despite vowing not to constantly go out during Lydia’s stay. And neither felt like making anything anyway. 

“So, I have people at the gallery asking about you,” Jet said after they ordered food. “From fans to employees, they all want to know when you are going to ship over a new painting. And I am running out of excuses.”

Lydia flushed a light shade of pink and shrugged, “Maybe after I stop painting Paul.”

“Please tell me you are painting something other than him,” she chuckled. 

“A few things but nothing I like enough to send over,” Lydia admitted.

“Are you sure you aren’t being too hard on yourself?” Artists are their own worst critics. 

“No.” When it came to painting’s that were to be displayed in a gallery, especially the one run by her best friend, she tended to be overly critical of her work. To the point she made herself so sick over it that she didn’t paint for weeks. This was one of the reasons galleries didn’t tend to get new works very often.

“But you have been painting?”

“I have. Just nothing worth displaying.”

Despite not believing that she could paint something not amazing enough to display, Jet nodded along. She was constantly in awe of her friend and told her that quite a bit. But unless she believed it herself, there was really nothing Jet could do to convince her. No matter how hard she tried. “I’ll come up with something to fend them off then.”

“At least for now.” There was no telling when inspiration would strike and how things would turn out, after all. 

“Oh? Are you going to stop painting your non boyfriend that’s still kind of your boyfriend?”

Lydia playfully rolled her eyes at her friends teasing, “I have painted other things.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” she chuckled. 

That part of their conversation drew to a close as their food was delivered by their waitress. While they did continue to chat during their meal, it was about random things that came to mind. Most of it bringing laughter and quite a few pauses in their eating so as not to choke. 

After exiting the restaurant sometime later, Jet decided to bring up something she’d been thinking about for a while. “I think I want to get something pierced.”

Lydia’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “You want to do what and how long have you been thinking about it?:

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while, actually. I voiced my thoughts to Richard once and he seemed to like the idea quite a bit and that’s been making me want to get it more. Would you go with me? I didn’t feel like going by myself and since you are here…” She trailed off with a shrug.

“That’s nice. But what do you want pierced?”

“My nipples.”

Her eyes went wide. “You want what?”

Jet laughed. "It's not that bad." 

"But that's such a sensitive spot." 

More chuckles. "I could do much worse. You don’t have to go with me if you really don’t want to but I thought you might like to. That and maybe get a little treat for Paul.”

It took Lydia a second to realize what she was hinting at, but when she did she froze in place on the sidewalk. “What? No. Oh no. I am not getting pierced just because you think Paul might like it. For all you know, he’ll never see me topless!”

The look she received was one of pure disbelief. “I’m going to remind you of the dream you had this morning as proof that your statement is false. And you don’t have to get it for him. It was just a suggestion. You could get them pierced because I am.”

“Friendship nipple piercings? Really?”

Jet laughed and shrugged. “It could happen. But I am going to ask you this. When was the last time you did something impulsive?”

“Moving to Berlin.” Though that wasn’t entirely true. She’d taken quite a bit of time to decide if that was really where she wanted to live.

“And what did Berlin get you?”

“Paul.”

“Exactly!” Jet exclaimed. “It gave you a great guy who cares about you, I’d even go so far as to say he loves you. So maybe doing something impulsive sometimes is a good thing.”

She wasn’t entirely sure just how solid her friend’s logic was, but in a way she did understand what she was getting at. “Do I really have to get a piercing?” Lydia asked after a few minutes of silence. 

“No. If you really don’t want to, I’m perfectly happy with you being there for moral support. But I really think you’d like them,” She answered honestly. 

“I don’t know if you just want matching piercings or what but I’ll go with you,” she muttered. At her friend’s small cheer of victory, she said, “That does not mean I’m getting anything pierced!”

“Of course not,” Jet said with a laugh and her hands slightly raised in a surrender pose. “I’m just happy you are going with me, darling.”

“Yeah, yeah. Are you doing this tonight?”

“Absolutely! I know just the place.”

“Of course you do.”

So Lydia followed Jet to a tattoo parlor that doubled as a piercing shop. The place was nice and slightly fancy looking with multiple chandeliers hanging from the painted ceiling. She was too busy studying the scene on the ceiling to hear Jet telling her piercer that her friend might be interested in getting something done as well. If she had, she would have left immediately. She didn’t like people making decisions for her any more. Even if it was Jet. 

She sat in one of the back rooms with her friend while a very nice and pretty woman named Lara explained the piercing process, what to expect, how to clean them, the healing process and so on. During this, Lydia started to think. She’d always wanted to do something rebellious to spite her parents and getting a divorce didn’t really count in her book, even if it did in theirs. And the more she thought of it that way, the more she started to like the idea. And then Jet’s words of Paul potentially liking it floated through her head. And as much as she didn’t want to do something just because a man would like it, she stopped doing that about halfway through her marriage, the idea had it’s appeal. Even if she wasn’t sure they’d ever have a sexual relationship. Or a relationship in general. 

By the time Jet was done, she’d made up her mind. It was rebellious and crazy and so not something she would do, but she wanted to. 

“Um, Lara?”

Their lovely piercer paused in putting her tools away. She smiled and asked, “Do you want them done to?”

Lydia nodded. It was going to be hell going through airport security in a few days but she hoped it was worth it. "Yes please." 

Jet happily cheered her on the whole way. 

Meanwhile, back in Berlin, Paul sat in the studio with Richard. They were supposed to be recording a series of guitar solos but ended up taking a break due to their hands cramping up. Even after playing for a large chunk of their lives it was still an occasional problem. And an annoying one at that. 

“Have you heard anything more from Lydia?” Richard asked.

“We talked this afternoon. She’s having a good time,” Paul answered with a grin.

“And her Grandmother?”

“No problems so far.”

“That’s good.” Richard had listened to his dear friend rant away in both anger and worry over the incident and spent a fairly large amount of time trying to calm him down. “She’s coming home soon, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, four more days. She’s already planning on taking an early flight so she can get settled and sleep a bit before dinner.” Paul suddenly frowned and groaned, “I still need to decide what to cook.”

His friend laughed. “Do you need help?”

“No. I should be fine by then,” a pause and a sigh, “I think.”

More laughter echoed through the studio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who commented on the last chapter! I really enjoyed reading them. This one was a lot of fun to write and I hope you enjoy it as well. I'd been debating on whether or not to keep the piercing idea since I got it around the beginning of this story and where to even put it should I keep the idea. It ended up randomly flowing into this chapter, so I thought it would indeed be fun to keep. I decided to not update chapter thirteen next Monday but rather a few days later on Christmas. It's a really exciting chapter so I thought it would be a nice sort of present to all of you.


	13. The Couch

Leaving Paris was always hard for Lydia. Every departure felt like she was leaving a safe haven, a place she could finally relax and be herself. But that was the past. This time it no longer felt like she was headed into danger the second the plane landed. This time she was simply trading one safe haven for another and there was no longer any danger here. She was heading home. Because that’s what Berlin had become. Home.

While Paris had felt home like because her grandparents and best friend were there, it never felt quite right. America most definitely never felt that way despite spending most of her life there. There was far too much pain and horror there to feel anything other than dangerous. Be it in her parents home or her ex-husband’s. It was never right. 

It’s funny how moving to a different country gave Lydia the safety and home she’d always longed for. 

Despite the hassle of getting through the airport due to the new little pieces of metal in her chest, she was happy to be there. Though her joy was diminished slightly when she found it was not Paul picking her up, but rather his sweet lead singer, Till. 

“You aren’t Paul,” Lydia stated with a slight pout after getting in the car. She immediately winced upon realizing what she said. “Sorry, that was rude.”

Till laughed and started the car with a shake of his head. “It is alright. He was supposed to pick you up but one of our producers held him back to re-record a solo, so he sent me.” He gave a sweet smile, “he sends his apologies.”

“That’s alright,” she said. “Thank you for agreeing to come get me.”

Another smile. “It was my pleasure. Now, how was the trip?”

“It was good. I had a lot of fun.” She yawned and stretched out as best she could in the seat. 

“Perhaps too much fun?” he teased. 

A laugh. “Maybe.” 

“You will have plenty of time to sleep if you want. We’ll probably be in the studio until later tonight.”

“I might do that.” A moment passed and she wrinkled her nose. “And maybe shower. I feel gross after the plane ride.”

Till laughed. He appreciated how honest and comfortable she was around him. According to his guitarist, it wasn’t easy for her to be that way with new people. And despite the dinner they’d spent together at Paul’s apartment, they didn’t truly know each other that well. And yet here she was, talking and laughing with him. It made him feel strangely proud of her. 

The rest of the ride to the apartment was spent joking and laughing. Nothing felt forced and Lydia was quite proud of herself for how easily and comfortably she was able to converse with the man. Perhaps she was getting better with these things after all. That and the knowledge Paul had known the man for years and trusted him with his life probably helped more than a little bit. 

After saying their goodbyes and promising to talk again soon, Lydia happily walked into her apartment building. During the ride up in the elevator she sent a quick text Paul’s way to let him know that she’d made it back safe. Out of habit she gave her apartment a quick look over to make sure no one had been in and bothered anything, then unpacked and jumped in the shower to rid herself of the dirty feeling being on a plane always brought, checked her phone and then settled down for a nap. 

Four hours later she was awakened from a very nice nap by her phone ringing. 

“Hello?”

“Hello, Sweetheart.”

“Paul,” Lydia breathed in something akin to relief. “How are you?”

“About to go home,” he said with a grin. “I wanted to let you know in case you decided to take a nap when you got back.’

She chuckled. “I did actually.”

He thought she would be worn out. She’d told him before that no matter how short or long the flight was, it always left her exhausted. “I’m sorry for waking you then.”

“It’s alright. I’ve been asleep for,” she paused to check the clock and then laugh, “about four hours. I needed to get up anyway. How soon will you be home?”

“Soon. It’s not a long drive from the studio. But it should take me around forty minutes to cook everything.”

“Plenty of time for me to get ready then.”

Paul shook his head, “You don’t have to do that. It’ll just be us.”

“Maybe I want to.”

He couldn’t fight back a smile at that. It was admittedly kind of a nice thought, her wanting to dress up for their dinner. “Maybe I will too then.”

“Oh?” Lydia asked with a grin. “Do I get to see you in a suit?”

“No,” he laughed. “Not unless you really want me in one.”

While the image that conjured up was rather lovely, she didn’t want to put him up to something he didn’t want to do. Most people found dressing up like that to be a chore. Especially if they had to do so often. “Not if you don’t feel like it.”

Another smile and a shrug. “I’ll see what I can do.”

She hummed softly, a smile tugged at her lips again. “I’m going to get off here so you can get home and I can get ready. I’ll see you soon?”

“Absolutely,” he said. Though in his opinion, soon wasn’t soon enough.

They ended the call at that and Lydia crawled out of bed to start looking for something to wear. She was beginning to get excited again as she started looking through her closet. She’d been looking forward to this night since they agreed to have it. And while nerves were bound to set in at some point, she hoped they came in the form of butterflies instead of anxiety. The last thing either of them needed tonight was an anxiety attack rearing its ugly head. 

After spending far longer searching through her closet than Lydia cared to admit, she settled on a dress. This was similar to the one she wore for their dinner with Till except it was black, a little longer, not quite as form fitting and the neckline showed off just a tad more than her collarbones, though not quite low enough to show cleavage. It was gorgeous and part of her hoped the color of the dress made Paul’s voice all hoarse and croaky again. It did wonders to his already slightly deepening voice. 

It also did wonders to her.

She then went about fixing her hair and giving it a little extra curl the braid she put it in early hadn’t already given it and put on just enough makeup to make her pretty brown doe eyes pop. 

Thankfully Lydia was already done by the time a knock came from her front door. She paused on her way to answer it, contemplating putting on shoes, before deciding against it. She didn’t feel like wearing any and he seemed to like it when she didn’t.

The sight before her upon opening the door took her breath away. While Paul wasn’t in a suit, he was still dressed nicely. A black button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, dress pants and to her secret delight, he was barefoot as well. He looked incredibly handsome. 

Paul was in a similar state of awe. He’d always thought Lydia looked good in darker colors and tonight was no different. She made him want to fall to his knees. 

"Lydia." 

"Paul." 

Both of them spoke each others names in soft breathless murmurs with reverence, as if they were the names of Gods that hadn't been spoken in thousands of years.

They stared at each other for a moment, in part to being caught up in looking the other over after a week long separation and in nervousness. After all that longing, there was a silent question hanging in the air. Were those budding feelings still there? While they really weren’t apart for a long time it did still feel that way. Could it be that, that little time apart was enough to clear their heads? To make them realize how crazy this was? Were they making a huge mistake by not only being friends but wanting to be more than that, no matter how much they were trying not to completely acknowledge that? 

It didn’t take long to get their answer.

“Come here, Sweetheart,” Paul whispered while opening his arms. She immediately dove in, arms wrapping tightly around one another and burying faces in whatever nook they could comfortably reach while trying to subtly take in deep breaths of the others scent. It’s strange how easy it is to miss the way someone smells.

“I missed you,” Lydia mumbled into his neck, stretched up on her tiptoes and holding on for dear life. She didn’t want to ever let him go.

“I missed you too.” His face was buried in her hair, breathing in the rather nice smell of the rose shampoo she was currently using. 

“Is ‘Sweetheart’ going to be a thing from now on?” she teased. He’d only said it a handful of times and she was actually starting to become fond of it. 

He laughed and shrugged, making her move slightly and squeak when they tipped just a bit, “only if you like it.”

“I like it.”

“I do too.”

They eventually parted from their hug when Lydia’s toes began to cramp up from being on them for so long. She wasn’t a ballerina after all, and being almost en pointe for a long period of time wasn’t a good idea. No matter how much they wanted to stay like that. After making sure she was alright, Paul led her over to his apartment. He’d spent quite a bit of time making dinner and he was pretty proud of himself. He wasn’t always the best at it. Certain dishes just wouldn’t come out right, no matter how hard he tried.

Dinner was spent at the small bar in his kitchen where they’d previously eaten during their dinner with Till. Afterwards they moved to the couch to settle in and catch up with one another. It would prove to be a long, but pleasant, night.

"What would you like to drink?" Paul asked from the fridge. “I have alcoholic and non. Do you drink? I don’t think I ever asked. I was thinking of pulling out some wine Richard left over a little while ago. If you are comfortable with me drinking around you. Or drinking at all. I can have water or something if you want. Or we both can. It’s up to you.”

She watched him from over the couch in fond amusement. His ramblings were adorable but she very much appreciated the thought he put into checking to make sure she was comfortable even if it deprived him of what he wanted. “I’m okay with us both drinking if you are,” when he nodded as to confirm this she continued, “can I have a smaller glass, though? I don’t drink very much. Or often.”

He nodded and made quick work of pulling the wine from the fridge and pouring it into two small glasses. He had no intention of getting drunk tonight. Or even attempting it for that matter. After settling down on the couch he handed her a glass and said, “This one was really good, if I remember right. He’s normally good at picking out this stuff.”

Lydia hummed softly and took a couple of tentative sips. It was very sweet with just the tiniest hint of a bitter after taste. Just how she liked it. “He has good taste.”

“Normally,” he chuckled after taking a few sips and placing his glass on the coffee table. “How was your trip?”

She coped him with a laugh, “I enjoyed it. It was hard being away from my family for so long but I like it here. I think I'll stay." 

"Oh? You only like it here?" He teased with a grin. 

She smiled shyly and said, "I'm liking it more and more every day." So she may have been talking about him and not the city. Though she liked that as well. 

A faint blush appeared.“I am too,” a grin, “Though I have been looking at it for a while.”

“How is the new album coming along, if you don’t mind me asking?” A small subject change to divert some of the attention away from herself or else she knew she’d start blushing. 

“It’s alright. We have about ten songs completed so far, but we’ll probably make at least twenty or thirty of them and then pick which ones we like most and those will go on the new album.”

“And the ones you don’t use?”

“Put back to look at later. Just because it doesn’t work with this album does not mean it won't work on the next one. It’s normal for us to go back and forth until we finally have something finished." 

"Do you end up with a lot of unpublished songs that way?" 

"Oh yes," Paul chuckled. "We probably have three or four albums worth of songs." 

"That's a lot." She was surprised they had so many unused songs. Though she never put much thought into what was used and what wasn't when it came to music. Like most, she simply enjoyed it. Though in retrospect it shouldn't surprise her considering how many unfinished paintings she had gathered over the years. It would make sense for others to do the same, no matter what kind of art they made. 

"Perhaps one day before we retire we'll release everything in our vaults." Now that thought made him flinch. Retirement. They weren't old enough for that yet, right? He certainly didn't think so.

"I think that's going to be a very long time from now," Lydia assured, noticing his shift in mood by the slightly pained look on his face. He definitely wasn't old enough to retire from anything. Let alone music. At least she didn't think so. 

"I hope so," he murmured. "I still feel too young for all that." 

"Then I'm sure it will be a very long time." After a slight hesitation she reached across the small space between them and gently took his hand in hers, giving a soft but encouraging squeeze. Much to her delight, this made him smile. Even if it was a small one. While gently stroking the back of his hand with her thumb, she murmured, "I wanted to thank you for dinner. It was wonderful."

Paul smiled a little bigger this time. "You're welcome. I'm glad you enjoyed it." He was also enjoying the touch she had initiated. Such a simple thing but it felt wonderful. It was also a little distracting. "Maybe we can do this again soon?" 

"I'd like that. Do you want to cook again or do you want me to?" 

"We can go back and forth if that's alright. I only know how to make so much." 

Lydia grinned at the pink blush now coloring his face. It was absolutely adorable. "I can teach you a few things if you want. We can make dinners together sometimes." But with how amazing dinner was tonight, she had a hard time believing he couldn't cook much. Though a lot of people do have special dishes they are better at than others.

He nodded. "I like that idea." Spending even more time together was fine with him. "Just do not tease me.' 

She chuckled at the change in his voice. "Now you are teasing." 

He hummed and nodded with an ever growing smile. "I like the way it makes you smile when I do." 

"Yes, well.." Now she was blushing and a bit flustered. 

A chuckle escaped before he could repress it. Paul raised their clasped hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles. This only flustered her further and darkened the blush painting her face. Even if the gesture was appreciated. "I know you enjoyed being in Paris but I really missed you while you were gone." 

"I missed you too." The mention of Paris once again reminded her of the decisions she made while there. Deciding to test the waters a bit, she whispered, "I dreamed of you while I was gone." 

Her words, as well as the implications behind them, made him smile. "I dreamed of you too." 

"Paul?" 

"Hmm?" 

The nerves and butterflies made her words become a whisper, "can I kiss you?" 

Had she just..? Did she..? No, it couldn't be. Paul was sure he heard her wrong. But the shy and earnest look on her face began to make him think otherwise. Maybe she had asked and he wasn't hallucinating. Perhaps he should say something just in case, he decided. Voice thick with emotion, he choked out a, "yes." 

"Are you sure?" 

"Yes." 

After a brief moment of hesitance, she moved forward and closed the small gap between them on the couch. Lydia leaned her forehead against his long enough to watch a mix of awe and surprise cross his face before closing the rest of the distance between with a warm but gentle brush of lips that caused instant butterflies for both of them. 

A few seconds of shock passed between them, because this was really happening, before the kiss continued with firm but gentle purses. It was a first kiss fit for a Hollywood film. But this one had genuine longing and a blossoming love behind it. Paul slowly raised his hands to gently cup her face just as Lydia moved to do the same. They fumbled for a moment before placing their hands where they wanted them and continued in a slowly growing insitancey. 

They both broke away only when the need for proper air became too much to ignore. Foreheads rested against the other while they panted, eyes closed and hands gently cupping faces as breath mingled together. 

They definitely needed to do that again. 

“Is that what you realized while in Paris?” Paul asked after regaining his breath.

“Is it,” she chuckled, pulling away just enough to look at his smile. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

He shook his head. “Don’t apologize. It was well worth the wait.” And it really was. He’d gladly wait a thousand times over if he could just to have that first kiss again. 

Lydia grinned and gently pecked his lips, giggling when he eagerly kissed back. “Thank you,” she murmured when they parted again. “As much as I’ve loved being your friend, I think I want to be something else now.” Her blissed out state was making her quite honest.

He shuddered and nodded. “I want that too.” This was really happening. He was half tempted to pinch himself just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming because this certainly felt like one. 

“Can I request something, though? I’ve enjoyed being friends so much that I don’t want that part of our relationship to end. Can we continue being friends while we are together?”

A broad grin. “I would like that very much.”

Lydia hummed with barely contained excitement and leaned in for another kiss. This one felt just as perfect as the last.

When they parted, Paul murmured, “And please feel free to do that any time as well.”

Giggles and more kisses filled the apartment. Happiness was a wonderful feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! And to those who don't celebrate, I hope you have an awesome day today! Thank you to everyone who commented on the last chapter. I know I kept saying how excited I was for this one so hopefully the end result isn't disappointing and you all enjoy it just as much as I do. And while these two are together now, they will continue to go at a slower pace. I have no intention of rushing through the rest of this story.


	14. Mischievous Conversation

Waking up happy was something Lydia seldom felt. Often times she started at the ceiling or the wall in something bordering sadness and despair. It always varied in intensity. Some days it was easy to ignore and some days it felt like a crushing weight. Thankfully she was always able to crawl out of bed, be it in a few minutes or five hours. But the main thing was that she got out of bed. 

It had always been like this, ever since she could remember. 

Jet often contributed it to her harsh upbringing and the works of her mother, but Lydia suspected it was just something she was born with. Things are often passed down through a family line, no matter how much some people hope it does not. So she suspected it was simply inherited. While her mother showed no signs of this or spoke of it, it probably would have been seen as a weakness in her eyes, her Grandmother did. She didn't often show it but she did speak of it on occasion. Especially if she noticed that her granddaughter didn't seem to be feeling quite right. 

So when she woke up that morning, her shock almost overrode her own happiness. Once the shock passed, however, she was quick to realize the reason for this sudden surprise. The night before with Paul. While Lydia was a firm believer that all problems couldn't be solved with a relationship or that having one person in your life wasn't a magic cure for all, there was still something to be said about being around someone you cared for deeply. 

Sure, she still had bad days and woke up feeling horrible, that hadn't changed just because Paul entered her life, but it was hard not to admit that she at least felt better with him around. And after their first kiss and deciding to start dating? Well, waking up happy the next day was pretty spectacular. So even though she was still going to have plenty of bad days, she knew that her good days were going to be even more special and cherished. Especially those she got to spend with Paul. 

After going about her morning routine, eating breakfast, sending a quick good morning text Paul's way, and checking to make sure Jet wasn't doing anything important, she gave her friend a call. Because why not keep the happiness alive? 

"And to what do I owe this pleasant surprise?" Jet laughed into the phone upon answering. 

"I have some news," Lydia replied, unable to keep a smile off her face and a certain joyfulness out of her voice. 

"Oh? Well don't keep me in suspense, Darling," she promoted. "What is it?" 

"I kissed Paul." 

"You did what? When? Where? How was it?" 

Lydia laughed at her dear friend's enthusiasm and the way her voice got louder and higher with each word. "I kissed him at dinner last night. And it was amazing. Oh, Jet, it was perfect! He was so sweet about everything." 

"I'm so happy for you," Jet said. "Who made the first move, you or him?" 

"Me," she admitted with a bit of a blush. While it was certainly nothing to be embarrassed about, the thought of kissing him brought back memories from last night and butterflies. It also brought back a pleasant warmth curling in her belly. It wasn’t quite arousal, but it certainly was something. 

"That's wonderful, Darling! I'm so proud of you," her friend all but squealed into the phone. "My little girl is growing up!" 

Laughter erupted from the American, because of course her friend would say something like that. "I have been in relationships and done things before, ya know. It’s not like I’m a virgin or anything like that.”

"Yeah, well the other moron doesn't count. I think we should be looking at Paul as a complete do over." She certainly needed one, in Jet’s opinion. While Alexander hadn’t been the first boyfriend, he had been the last in a long line of horrible ones. It was about time her friend found someone who was going to treat her right. 

"A complete do over? Jet, I don't think I can lose my virginity twice." 

"Well, you kind of do when you first take it up the-" 

"Jet!" Lydia shrieked. "I am not having that conversation with you!" 

She laughed heartily and moved the phone away for a minute in an effort to be considerate with how loud she was being. After finally calming down she said, "what? You don't want to talk about having-" 

"No! Absolutely not!" She shook her head vehemently, "I am not doing that and we are not having that sort of conversation." Her ex-husband had attempted to talk her into that once and she fiercely denied him every time. There wasn’t a lot she could get out of in that house, but when it came to their, apparently necessary, sexual relationship he respected her wishes. Even if she did have to repeat herself a few times to get it through his thick skull.

The French woman snickered. "Are you sure? What if Paul likes that sort of thing?" 

"Well he can try it first because it certainly won't be me!" 

"I believe that's called pegging, dear heart." 

"I'm hanging up!" Cackling could be heard through the phone. "I mean it!" 

"Okay, okay," Jet conceded, still laughing but at least attempting to stop. "I'm done. I promise." 

"You better be," she grumbled, "because I will hang up on you if you start back up again." This certainly was not the type of conversation she planned on having today. Or ever again for that matter. 

"I won't," she promised. "In all seriousness, I am very proud of you. And it only took you three months." So she was still teasing her a little bit. There was nothing wrong with that, right?

Lydia rolled her eyes good naturedly and murmured, "It hasn't been three months yet. There's still a couple of days left." 

She chuckled, "Alright. Not quite three months. So, did you two just kiss or did you finally make things official?” 

"We are dating," she confirmed, a grin apparent in her voice once again. 

"I'm really happy for you, dear. You deserve this." 

"Thank you. I'm still kind of struggling to realize this isn't a dream." No matter how happy she was, it still didn't feel completely real. It probably wouldn’t for a while. If ever. 

"It will start to feel real," Jet promised. "It'll just take a little bit of time." She hoped it would sooner rather than later. Her friend deserved the world and more.

"I hope so,” she sighed. Sometimes it seemed like nothing was ever going to feel real.

“It will, sweetie. Now, I know it’s still a little way’s off, but any ideas as to what you want to do for your birthday?”

“No,” she groaned. It was a little over two weeks away and she still had no clue what to do. She hadn’t even told Paul yet. “I’m clueless this time around.” Though it wasn’t like she’d ever had much of a choice in what she wanted in the past. Her mother always planned her birthday parties. Even after she married and moved out of the house.

“Still getting use to having a choice in the matter?” Her friend guessed.

“Oh yeah. Honestly I’m half tempted to just stay here and have a quiet night in.” It would be a first for her. 

“That sounds nice,” Jet hummed. “Well, whatever you decide you decide to do, just let me know and I’ll do my best to clear my schedule enough to come see you.”

“Well I was hoping so,” She chuckled. They normally visited each other for birthdays, only having missed a handful over the years they’ve been friends. “I’ll do my best to let you know a week in advance though.”

“That would be nice,” her friend said. “Oh! Have you told Paul yet?”

“What? About my birthday?” Lydia asked.

“No. About how horrible your German is,” she dead panned. “Of course I’m talking about your birthday!”

Laughter echoed over the line. “My German happens to be coming along just fine, thank you very much. And no, I haven’t told him yet. It almost feels awkward to tell him now. I mean, we just got together.”

“Well you need to tell him some time. And I don’t mean the day before, either. That will probably drive him nuts if you wait that long. And don’t worry about it being awkward. You were friends first, remember?”

“I know. I may still wait a couple of days so that I’m not immediately springing it on him.”

“Alright,” Jet said. “Just don’t wait too long.”

“I won’t,” she promised. “I’ll need to figure out what I want to do for the day too.”

“You’ll figure something out. And I’m always here if you need me.”

“Thank you,” Lydia said. ”I appreciate that.”

A sudden commotion in the background made her friend groan. "Sorry, honey. I have to go. Someone misplaced a very important painting." 

Lydia chuckled, "That's okay. I'll talk to you later?" 

"Definitely! I'll text you as soon as I can." 

"Okay. Good luck finding that painting." 

"Thanks, sweetie. I think I'm gonna need it," Jet sighed before ending the call. 

Lydia grinned and shook her head in amusement. Oh the joys of owning a famous art gallery. She placed her phone on a couch cushion and glanced towards one of her paintings to eventually fix it with a glare and a sigh. Well, she supposed it wouldn't hurt to try finishing that thing. She'd been working on it before leaving for Paris and was quite frustrated with it at the time. Might as well attempt to start back up again now that she was home. Maybe having that time away would help unblock her brain and her painting skills. 

So, after fixing a cup of tea and putting on some music, she grabbed her brushes and some paint to hopefully finish what she started. And if nothing else, she could always pick up a book for a couple hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First chapter for the new year! This one is a bit on the short and sweet side but I had fun writing it. Thank you to everyone who commented on the last chapter. I loved reading each one and I'm so happy you all enjoyed it so much.


	15. Studio Shenanigans

If there was one thing Paul truly hated about recording an album, it was getting up early. Well, that and the arguments that normally occurred at some point or another. Six guys with their own ideas and wants were bound to clash at some point. 

But really, getting up at seven in the morning just to record was never fun. At least he wasn't listening to some moron of a producer rant at six in the morning two days in a row. So there was that bright side. 

"Good morning," Oliver chirped as Paul walked into the studio. 

"Why are you so chipper this morning?" He grumbled. It was far too early to be that cheerful. 

Oliver simply grinned at him and held out a rather large cup of coffee. Paul was quick to grab it and take a seat beside his fellow guitarist on the couch, who was also cradling a large coffee cup between silver tipped fingers like it was a gift from God. Though to most people it probably was. 

"Morning Richard," he mumbled. 

A grunt was uttered and a large gulp of coffee was had before Richard spoke up. "Too early. Why do we have to make music before twelve?" 

"In the morning or afternoon?" Oliver asked with a small grin, knowing his friends sleeping habits. He received grunts and rolling eyes from both guitarists. He chuckled and sipped at his own coffee. While he wasn't always so happy and awake in the morning, today he was already on his second cup of coffee. And that helped. A lot. 

The room remained silent after that, save for the occasional gulping and slurping noises of coffee being consumed. Almost an hour later they finally began working on some guitar and bass lines they planned on recording today. Their recording process itself lasted for three hours before they paused for brunch when a producer's assistant brought in food. After everything had been consumed and the packaging thrown away, the conversation picked back up.

It wouldn’t hurt to extend their break for a few more minutes. It wasn’t like they didn’t already have hours worth of music recorded. 

“I have some news,” Paul announced with a grin. His friends immediately looked at him curiously.

“Well?” Richard prompted. “What is it?”

“Lydia and I are dating.” As soon as those words left his mouth, the room exploded into question after question, his band mates voices blurring together at one point when they couldn’t seem to talk fast enough. “One question at a time!”

“When did this happen?” Oliver asked after they both calmed down. 

“Last night, after dinner. We were sitting on the couch and,” Paul shrugged, “it suddenly happened.”

“Who made the first move?” Richard questioned, voice both accusatory and teasing. He was beyond happy for his friend, but that didn’t mean he’d refrain from teasing him. His fellow guitarist had teased him relentlessly when he announced his relationship with Jet. It was only fair that he repaid the favor. 

Paul fell silent at that, face becoming pink with embarrassment. While he truly did not have anything to be embarrassed about, that didn’t stop the feeling from flaring up. He’d always been the one to make the first move in all of his past relationships and normally spent more than a little bit of time bragging to his friends about it. This time he didn’t exactly have anything to brag about. At least not like in the past. Though something told him it would feel wrong to brag about Lydia in such a context if he had done such a thing. Like he’d betrayed her in some way. “It’s the modern day! There’s nothing wrong with women making the first move.”

Laughter filled the studio. 

“Nothing wrong with it at all,” Richard agreed before turning teasing once again, “So why are you getting defensive?”

“I am not.”

“Oh but you are.”

“I am not defensive!”

“Then why are you shouting?”

"Oh you...you...fucker!" 

Oliver watched the two with growing amusement. They didn’t argue much anymore but when they did it was normally playful and very rarely escalated into anything else. That being said, it didn’t stop him from closely watching them in case he needed to intervene. He didn’t particularly like having to do that but he’d done it enough in the past to know exactly what to do without causing them further harm. 

"Are you two done yet?" 

The two men paused in their arguing to stare at him in surprise for a moment before looking back at each other and starting up again. This time there was more laughter and teasing to their words instead of a somewhat playful defensiveness that was starting to border on actual annoyance. Their poor bassists groaned in his own annoyance but continued to watch and listen to them. 

Eventually the play argument came to an end with all three laughing, as the pair were able to drag their friend into the conversation. 

"I'm glad you two are together," Oliver said after they were able to calm down from their laughing fits. "You seem like a good match." 

"And how do you know that?" Paul chuckled. "You haven't met her yet." 

"And whose fault is that?" Richard interjected, voice once again full of teasing. 

"It'll happen eventually," Paul assured with a slight flush. "I don't want to overwhelm her and scare her off." That was the one thing he ever wanted to do. 

"And yet she has met Till," his fellow guitarist said with a grin. 

"I think she'll meet you last." 

Oliver chuckled as they began teasing each other again. Even if it developed into another playful argument, he much preferred this to how they'd all been in the past. Sometimes stress brought out the worst in people. Eventually he spoke up again, "Regardless of who she meets after Till or how that goes, I honestly think she's good for you, Paul. And I'm only going by what you have told me! She seems like a wonderful girl." 

A grin instantly spread across Paul's face at his friends words. "Thank you, Ollie. I really appreciate that." He stood up from the couch and pulled the bassist into a warm hug, catching the other man off guard and causing him to flush a light shade of pink, but he otherwise happily returned the hug. After sitting back down he continued, "Lydia makes me happy in ways I haven't felt in a long time. I think we might have a future together. Or at least I hope we do." 

"I think you do too," Oliver agreed. "Just make sure to care for her. I think Lydia needs someone in her life besides her friend to show her that they care about her. The way you talk about her," he shook his head and sighed, "well, she sounds very lonely and like love hasn't given her a fair chance. Maybe it's up to you to be that person for her. To show her what it's like to be with someone who won't hurt her." 

Such words of advice caught Paul off guard for a moment because that was what he felt as well. Lydia had been through a lot in this life and he was determined to make it count when it came to her. He wanted her to know that not everyone was like her ex and that love was possible. Not only that, he wanted her to believe it. To believe that there was someone out there that not only truly cared but wanted her to be happy as well, no matter the circumstances. "Thank you." 

The conversation slowly died down after that and they went back to recording, eventually losing themselves in the music and not coming back up for air until six that evening. And had it not been for Paul's date later, they would have continued on into the night. When they got into the right groove it was easy to spend hours just making music with no real perception of time. But this time they were determined to stay on schedule. 

After exiting the studio building, Richard turned towards his band mates. “Same time tomorrow?”

“And for the whole week,” Paul said with a laugh. They were scheduled to spend the rest of this week and possibly the next recording just guitar and bass tracks before moving on to vocals. Again. There were a few songs that Till was now insistent on rerecording. And they all blamed that damn producer for it too.

“Any idea what you’ll be making for dinner?” Oliver inquired. He’d been more than a little happy at the idea of his friend learning to cook more. And making a date out of it sounded like a fun idea. 

“Nope,” Paul chuckled. “I’m just fine with following her lead on this.” He glanced down at his watch and grinned, “Though we might figure it out together tonight. I bet Lydia is still painting. She’s been talking about trying to tackle a difficult painting when she got back from Paris.”

“Does she let you look at her art?” Hs fellow guitar inquired. 

“She does. I’ve seen a lot of them but I haven’t got to see her actually paint yet.” He grinned again and shrugged, “Maybe I will tonight.”

“You might,” Oliver chuckled while pulling out his buzzing phone. He grinned widely at a text from his wife and looked back up at his friends. “I have a small grocery list to buy before I go home. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

The pair said their goodbyes and waved him off before turning to each other and doing the same. Both were eager to get home, Paul more than a little ecstatic for his date with Lydia and Richard was excited to call Jet, as he'd promised earlier that morning to call her if he didn't get out of the studio too late. 

Before actually going home, Paul made a quick stop at a local flower shop. While he wasn't entirely sure what Lydia's favorite flowers were, he hoped it was the thought that counted in the long run. While he was tempted to just call and ask, he didn't want to ruin the surprise. In the end he went with red roses. It was considered a classic, after all. And in his mind, he’d yet to do an actual romantic gesture and thought perhaps doing so on the second date would make up for it. 

Little did he know, Lydia thought just about every sweet thing he did was a form of a romantic gesture. 

Even after all this time it still took Paul a minute or two to work up the courage to knock on her door. It didn’t take her long to answer, only pausing to set down a paint brush and turn the music down a bit. The look of pure surprise and the sweet smile that followed was well worth the uncertainty of the flowers. 

“You brought me flowers?” Lydia asked slowly, unable to bite back to steadily growing smile as she slowly took the small bouquet from him. 

Paul nodded and said, “I didn’t get to on our first date. So I thought I’d make up for it.”

She shyly leaned up and kissed his cheek before letting him into the apartment, a blush slowly warming up her face the longer she started at the flowers. No one had ever bought her flowers before. 

Noticing her starting, he quickly asked, “Are roses alright?”

She nodded and walked into the kitchen to look for something to put them in. “Roses are just fine. Thank you so much.” After finding a large glass that would work well enough as a makeshift vase and carefully putting the flowers in it, she confessed, “I’ve never gotten flowers before.”

“Never?”

“Nope. Most of the people I had to date believed that acts of romance were silly.”

Paul frowned and privately vowed to bring her flowers from now on. “Do you have any favorites?”

While scrubbing some paint from her hands she replied, “I like roses and lilies. I’ve always been fond of sunflowers too. And tulips are pretty.”

He nodded and walked up to her, slowly wrapping his arms around her waist as to not scare her. Despite his careful attempts, Lydia still stiffened at the contact before slowly relaxing into his embrace. She wasn’t quite used to physical contact and affection unless it was from her Grandparents or Jet. And while her and Paul have hugged and held hands in the past, it was still something she needed to get used to. 

“Is this okay?” Paul whispered in her ear.

His breath fanning against her skin and the deepness of his accented voice made Lydia shiver pleasantly and her eyes to flutter shut. It took her a moment to gather herself and whisper back, “It’s okay.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, not entirely sure if the little shiver he felt from her was good or not.

“Yes. I’m just still getting used to this,” She admitted with more than a bit of embarrassment. 

He nodded and hummed softly in understanding. “That’s alright. Promise me something?”

“Okay.”

“If I do something you don’t like or if it gets to be too much, please tell me?”

“I promise. But only if you do the same.”

Paul grinned and gently kissed her cheek. “Deal.”

Even while settling herself against him and relaxing, a blushing continued to darken across Lydia’s face. Even the tips of her ears were red now. Despite this, she was content. It wasn’t something she felt often and having that feeling with Paul made it even more special. “Can we stay like this for a little bit longer? I know we need to make dinner, but...”

He gently kissed her temple and murmured, “We can stay like this for as long as you need, Sweetheart.”

“Thank you, Paul,” she whispered. “This means a lot to me.”

He pulled her tighter against himself and nuzzled into her. “I’ll always be here for you, Lydia. Even if I can’t physically be here, I will still be there for you in any way I can. I swear it.” 

Despite everything raging in her mind, all the words of her mother and ex-husband screaming in her head about how unlovable she was, about how she would never be enough or find happiness, something deep inside her soul believed him. Every last word was taken as truth. Because Lydia believed Paul with all her heart. The love blooming between them was slowly silencing all the doubts and lies, bit by bit. And while the chances of all the trauma she’d lived through completely going away were slim, the chances of her healing were much higher. It wouldn’t be easy, but having a support system and knowing there were people out there that truly care about her would go a long way. 

“Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little late of an update but an update nonetheless. I am...very unsure as to how i feel about this chapter. I like parts of it and others not so much. For some reason this one just did not want to be written. Hopefully that doesn't show too much. I wanted to say thank you to everyone who commented on the last chapter. I really do appreciate each and every one of you! Thank you all so much!!


	16. Rainy Day

Date night appeared to be a permanent fixture in Lydia and Paul's lives. For the past week they’d gotten together, be it in her apartment or his, cooked dinner and spent the next few hours just talking. While it was wonderful to spend so much time together, Lydia was half afraid she’d run out of recipes by the end of the month. 

Tonight they were making a potato and cheese soup. It was a cold and rainy day, the kind that made your very bones ache, and they both thought a soup was necessary. If for no other reason than to no longer feel soaked to the bone from the chill.

It was beginning to feel like an ice bath. 

"We're putting in how much?" Paul questioned while staring down at the large block of cheese with a quirked brow. Surely he'd heard wrong. 

Lydia laughed at his expression and took the cheese block from him to start cutting it up into smaller pieces over the cook pot. "The whole thing." 

"That's not too much?" 

She grinned while saying, "No. It'll be perfect. I made this with Jet once and she talked me into putting in a block and a half. Now that was too much." 

Clogged arteries immediately came to Paul's mind. Among other things. "How many times have you made this?" 

"A lot," she laughed. "This is one of my favorites." Lydia had made this more times than she cared to count over the years. Because not only did it taste amazing, but it was easy to make and perfect for days like this. The only downside was it took longer than you'd think it would to cook and you constantly had to stir it to keep the bottom of the pot from burning, because you wanted as much of it as you could possibly get.

“What do you want to do while we wait for this to cook?”

“Well, unless you want to set a timer to get up and stir it every five minutes, we’re staying right here.”

Paul grinned widely at her reply. She was becoming more bold and sassy around him lately and he loved it. It showed just how comfortable she was becoming around him. And that was something he wasn’t completely sure would be possible. “Kitchen it is.” A bright smile was all he received in return. 

With a chuckle he continued to watch her finish cutting up the cheese block. She did it with a quick precision that reminded him of a professional chef. Perhaps she’d simply been doing it long enough to achieve such ease. 

After finishing up and placing the knife in the sink, Lydia turned her attention back to Paul. He was leaning against the counter with a small smile on his face, obviously watching her work. For once she didn’t feel unsure of herself from being watched, but rather pleased he was paying such close attention with no ill will. It was a strange but pleasant thing to get used to. 

When he was sure she was done, he leaned forward to gently grip her hips and rest his forehead against her own. “Can I kiss you?” He wasn’t sure where the sudden urge had come from but he planned on acting on it for quite a while if she allowed it.

Though they’d kissed a few times before, he always asked. It was something she appreciated and found to be a nice change of pace. “Okay.”

He smiled at her surprised tone and connected their lips in a gentle purse. They always started off this way and the little smile he felt was worth it every time. Gentle pursing became a slow and languid overlapping that still managed to leave them both breathless. He gradually let go of her hips to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her closer, her own hands carefully gripping at the hair resting against the nape of his neck. Slow and sweet had once again become passionate and more than a little enthusiastic. 

All too soon Lydia pulled away with a shocked gasp and quickly wiggled out of his arms, causing a brief moment of panic on his part, before she went over to the stove to quickly stir the soup. When Paul realized it was simply because they forgot about dinner, he breathed a sigh of relief. For a moment there he was sure he’d done something to make her uncomfortable. 

“Sorry,” she squeaked while stirring the soup. “It suddenly popped into my head.”

“It’s okay,” he quickly reassured. As long as she was pulling away to salvage dinner and not because he overstepped, he was okay with it ending their kiss. He was even more okay with it when Lydia set the timer, surged forward to fuse their lips together and wind her fingers into his hair. 

Their passion certainly hadn’t been lost during that brief pause. 

The next time the kiss broke, it was because of the timer going off. But this time they were panting and reluctant to detangle themselves from each other. It certainly was hard to argue that there wasn't a spark between them. And what a growing spark it was. 

Once out of his embrace Lydia clumsily stumbled over to the stove, be it from lack of oxygen or the insensitivity of Paul's kisses, and quickly began stirring the soup after turning off the timer. 

While Paul was happy to lean against the counter and attempt to catch his breath. He definitely needed a moment to calm down. It’d been a while since a kiss, or rather kisses, had affected him in such a way. But he enjoyed it. Made him feel young again. 

A few minutes later she asked between gasps for breath, "How's that for something to do while we wait?" A breathless laugh and a wide grin was her only answer. 

After calming down they continued to focus on dinner and sometime before it was ready they began exchanging little kisses here and there, never going further as to not become distracted again. It appeared the cold weather was making them more affectionate than usual. And it was greatly appreciated by both parties. 

Dinner was poured into the largest bowls Lydia owned and the couple migrated over to the couch, sitting on opposite ends and stretching out just enough to intertwine their legs. After their little makeout in the kitchen, some form of continuous physical contact felt necessary. And much to Paul’s delight, almost all of it was initiated by Lydia. He knew she wasn’t used to such physical affection and was often made uncomfortable by it. But the days she not only initiated it but continued to do so happily felt like progress. Some days he even likened the feeling to Christmas morning. 

Once multiple bowls were consumed and both were too comfy to so much as put their dishes in the sink, Lydia felt comfortable enough to talk about something that had been weighing on her mind lately. 

“Would it be too soon to tell you my birthday is coming up?”

Paul smiled a little at her consideration and reached down to gently squeeze her ankle in reassurance while he replied, “No. When is it?”

“Next week,” She said a bit shyly before clarifying, “On Thursday.”

He nodded and asked, “Were you worried about the gift thing?”

“A little. I wasn’t sure if it was too soon in our relationship.”

He couldn’t help but grin at the word ‘relationship’. It continued to thrill him to no end when verbal reminders of them being together popped up and he wasn’t entirely sure it would ever go away. Truthfully he never wanted it to. “Your first birthday with me isn’t something you have to worry over. I can do small gifts. But your second birthday?” His grinned turned into that of a Cheshire cat. “I will go all out.”

It took a moment for his words to process and even then it left her more than a little shocked. He really planned on staying with her that long? “Second...birthday?”

The look of purse shock on her face broke his heart a little bit. It seemed it hadn’t quite settled in for her just how long he planned on being around. “Oh Sweetheart,” he murmured, moving forward with a bit of difficulty considering how tangled up their legs were, and gently grasped her hand to kiss the back of it. “I want many birthdays and anniversaries. I plan on staying for as long as you’ll have me.”

Tears immediately gathered in Lydia’s eyes and slowly rolled down her cheeks. In truth, she never knew just how long this relationship would last and seldom acknowledged just how long or short it could be. The possibility of heartbreak via Paul was too much to think about. But to hear him say such sweet words actually eased some of her fears. She quickly surged forward, all but knocking him into the arm of the couch, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders and buried her face in his neck. 

Paul grunted from the force of them colliding and pulled her closer as soon as she’d wound herself around him. This was not the reaction he was expecting. And he certainly hoped those were happy tears. “I didn’t mean to make you cry, Sweetheart.”

She shook her head and slowly pulled away, gently cupping his cheeks while she assured him, “They’re happy tears.” Lydia connected their lips in a quick kiss and pulled away long enough to say, “Thank you” before kissing him again. It was salty and wet from her tears, as well as a bit sloppy but it was wonderful all the same. The emotion they both poured into the kiss made it worthwhile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short and sweet almost filler like chapter but I'm much happier with how it came out compared to the last one. I've been dealing with some writers block lately that I have desperately been trying to push through and I think the last few chapters have reflected that a bit. Hopefully it'll be over soon and everything will get back to normal. I want to say thank you to everyone for all the comments, kudos, bookmarks, and just plain reading this story. It means a lot to know people are still enjoying it and I hope you will continue to do so as this story progresses. Thank you all so much!

**Author's Note:**

> To be honest with you, I'm not completely sure where I'm going with this. Originally it was going to be just two, maybe three chapters but I think it's going to be a full blown story at this point. So let's just see how it goes. Because we all need more Paul in our life.


End file.
